


Tigress

by MVPYurio



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also for the record, Autistic Character, Autistic Yuri Plisetksy, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 01, THERE IS NO OTAYURI IN THIS, This shit's gonna be SLOW to update, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, because i am a Busy Person™, there is also no pliroy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9273932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVPYurio/pseuds/MVPYurio
Summary: Yuuri has arrived in Russia. Viktor couldn't be happier (or, admittedly, more distracted), Georgi is a pining mess, Yurio is a pile of salt, Mila is the only one who isn't running on pure emotions, and Yakov is about to lose his mind.In other words, all is well.But when Mila catches Yuri skating in one of her old costumes, that might all change. Will the young record-holder make history again? Or is the world not ready for the Ice Tigress of Russia?





	1. arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chihokos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chihokos/gifts), [whichlights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/gifts), [TheMagicMicrobus (CallMeCaptainOrSir)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptainOrSir/gifts).



“How much longer will we have to wait?” Yuri groaned, leaning against the railing of the bridge. “He’s taking forever.”

Viktor laughed. “I just said the same thing, and you told me to stop complaining. Why do you get to complain?”

“Yes, well you were complaining because you’re an impatient, lovesick idiot. I’m complaining because it’s cold, and because I’m bored, and because this bus is taking forever. Why did I even come, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor said mirthfully. “Why did you?”

“I have no idea, and now I regret it.” Yuri went back to staring at his phone.

“No you don’t,” said Viktor. “Oh! I think that’s it! I hope that’s it!”

“Me too,” said Yuri, smiling slightly, before frowning again and muttering “For both our sakes.”

“Was that a smile, Yurio?”

“Look, there he is. Now you can stop pouting.”

And, indeed, there he was, running across the bridge towards them, eyes lighting up as he got closer and closer. Viktor grinned and started waving.

“He can see you,” said Yuri. “He's right in front of you.”

But Viktor had long stopped listening.

“Yuuri!”

* * *

 “Remind me why you got to keep Makkachin?” Viktor asked as they stepped off the bridge.

After the season had ended—with Yuuri winning gold at the World Championship, no less—they returned to Hasetsu so Viktor could collect his things to return to Russia—and so their friends in Japan could congratulate them, ostensibly on Yuuri’s medal, but everyone knew that the real excitement was over Viktor and Yuuri’s impending marriage.

But eventually, Viktor had to go back to Russia, to move back into his apartment and, more importantly, to convince Yakov to take him and Yuuri on as students, and Yuuri had to prepare to move. When the time came to decide whether Makkachin would return to Russia with Viktor or stay with Yuuri until he moved, there really was only one way to settle the matter.

After all, they would be competing against each other next season.

“I won the skate-off,” Yuuri reminded him.

“I still think that six years old is too young to judge a skating competition,” Viktor muttered. Yuri snorted. “What, Yurio?”

“You let him keep your dog for three months because of a skating match judged by the triplets?”

“Technically, he’s ours now,” Yuuri pointed out.

“Okay, fine, ours. But yeah, about that, why did it take three months for you to get here, anyway?”

“I told you, Viktor, moving to Russia doesn’t happen overnight. I had all sorts of paperwork and things that I had to fill out. Had I not started right after we came back from Barcelona, it would have taken much longer. But I’m here now, yeah?”

Viktor smiled and wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah, you are. But I _missed_ you.”

“I missed you too.”

They were about to kiss when Viktor’s phone buzzed. “Oh—oh, that’s probably Mila,” he stammered. “She said she’d text the address of where we’re meeting for lunch.”

“We? What do you mean, we?”

“The team, idiot,” said Yuri, rolling his eyes. “Wasn’t my idea. Mila wanted us all to get together to ‘celebrate our new rinkmate’ or something.”

“Oh—oh, that’s so sweet!” Yuuri grinned.

“It’s also a pile of bullshit,” said Viktor. “Yurio did the leg work of convincing Yakov to let us both train with him, and as for lunch, I’m looking at the place we’re meeting and it _just so happens_ to be Yurio’s favorite.”

“Maybe Mila and I like the same food,” Yuri shrugged.

“Yurio, you convinced Yakov to let me train with him?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah, well. It was the only way to get Viktor to come back as well. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I-I’ll do my best,” Yuuri mumbled.

“What? Oh. Yeah, don’t you make me regret it either, katsudon.”

* * *

 Yuuri was, to say the least, rather nervous about having lunch with his new coach and rinkmates. Sure, he knew them all to an extent, and Viktor had told him half a million times not to worry, but he was well aware that the others had trained together for years—and were all Russian. He would inevitably stick out like a sore thumb.

“Yuuri, relax,” Viktor said gently as they walked into the restaurant. “Yakov isn’t much more intimidating than I am.”

“Yeah, that’s not helpful,” Yuuri mumbled. “I was scared to death when you first arrived.”

“Fair enough.”

“Viktor! Yuri! Other Yuri!” Mila called from across the room, waving from her table.

“You’re Other Yuri,” Yuri said firmly. “I was here first.”

Yuuri was half-hoping that Viktor would say something, but in true Viktor fashion, he was not paying attention. Ah well.

They made their way over to the table. Lilia and Yakov were sitting at opposite ends, trying both not to look at each other and stare each other down simultaneously, while Georgi was sitting smack-dab in the middle, looking very irritated that this was happening at all. Mila was in between Georgi and Yakov, grinning.

“Yura, come sit with me,” said Lilia, patting the empty seat next to her. Yuri didn’t even pretend to be grumpy, in fact…

“Is that a smile, Yurio?” Viktor teased. “I didn’t know you were capable of those.”

“Shut up,” Yuri muttered as he sat down.

“Yuuri, how was your flight?” Mila asked.

“Oh, not too bad,” said Yuuri. “Someone on the plane recognized me, and there happened to be an empty seat there so I let her sit with me for awhile. She was very nice. Oh, and a few little kids wanted to pet Makkachin while I was waiting for my bags.”

“Who doesn’t want to pet Makka?” Viktor asked fondly, petting him under the table.

“People who are smart enough to know that cats are objectively better than dogs,” Yuri replied without missing a beat.

“Yurio, we’ve been arguing over this for years,” Viktor sighed. “Isn’t it time to let it go, and realize that dogs are far, far better than cats?”

“Oh, dear god, not this again,” Yakov groaned. “I had hoped that perhaps you two would have forgotten this.”

“Yura, forget an argument?” Lilia asked incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

“I can dream, Lilia—Georgi Popovich, don’t you get that look on your face; I know your dreams have been permanently crushed, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have them, and what’s more, you need to move on, because that nonsense only worked for one season and it failed you at that.”

Georgi looked down at his plate and muttered something about _Anya_ and _you fools will never understand true love._

“I can confirm that there are two fools here that probably do understand that,” said Yakov, glancing over at Viktor and Yuuri, who had moved their chairs to the point that they were all but on top of each other, “and for the record, that will probably be the death of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	2. homecoming

The rest of lunch went by pretty well. Georgi continued to pout, but everyone else was chatting back and forth. Even Lilia and Yakov were talking with each other.

“Katsuki, do you have any ideas for your programs this season?” Yakov asked. “You choreographed your own free skate last year, yes?”

“Yes, although I got a lot of help.” Yuuri smiled over at Viktor, taking his hand under the table.

“It was mostly you,” said Viktor, squeezing Yuuri’s hand. “I just helped you with the actual skating.”

“Yes, well, obviously choreographing your own program worked well,” said Yakov, before Yuuri and Viktor could exchange googly eyes for the _twelfth_ time so far. “And I have far too many of you to choreograph for everyone, so if you want to do that again, it will make my day. As long as it’s good.”

“Yura, I can help you choreograph yours again,” said Lilia. “I know that Vitya choreographed your short program, but I had fun choreographing your free skate.”

“And Vitya, you’re not allowed to choreograph for anyone else,” Yakov interjected. “You already have to choreograph and skate your two programs, and I know you’re not going to let anyone help you.”

“Damn it,” Viktor muttered. “I already had ideas for Yuuri.”

“You can tell me,” said Yuuri. “And then I can go from there.”

“Alright, fine, but no more than that,” said Yakov. “I want to see as many medals as possible this year, and that’s not going to happen if everyone is focused on each other.”

* * *

After lunch, Lilia and Yuri returned to the rink per Yuri’s request, garnering multiple remarks from the rest of the team on how much more disciplined their youngest rinkmate had become over the past year. Georgi had left the table early, leaving cash on the table to cover his share of the bill before running out of the restaurant crying.

“And we are going home,” Viktor said firmly. “Makka needs to eat and have a walk, and Yuuri, you need to sleep; I know you get jet-lagged easily. Besides,” he said, more quietly this time, “once training starts, we’ll be busy constantly. I’d like to have some time alone with my fiancé while I still can.”

“I heard that,” said Yakov. “Behave.”

Yuuri nearly choked on his bite of food.

* * *

 “Well, here we are,” said Viktor as he opened the door of his apartment. “Home sweet—Makka!” He laughed as Makkachin rushed forward and leapt up onto the couch, turning a few times before lying down in his favorite spot. “Well, at least someone missed that couch.”

“What, you don’t like your couch?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, I’ll always have one fond memory associated with it,” said Viktor.

“What’s that?”

“Well, that’s where I watched you skate my routine. I really do have to thank Yuuko and the triplets again for that video.” Viktor grinned, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Oh—oh, don’t remind me,” Yuuri groaned, shrugging Viktor’s arm off. “I was awful—”

“No, you weren’t. And besides, what could be more embarrassing than—”

_“—SHUT UP.”_

“What?” Viktor asked innocently “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Um… the… first time we talked?” Yuuri almost squeaked.

“I mean, yes, that is exactly what I was going to say, but—!” he broke off and yelped in pain when Yuuri punched his arm.

“Stop,” Yuuri begged. “That was—”

“—an utterly life-changing experience that made me feel alive for the first time in twenty years?”

“The most embarrassing moment of my life, that I was perfectly happy not remembering—wait, what?” Yuuri blinked a few times. “What?”

“You heard me.” Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri again, giving Yuuri no choice but to effectively face-plant into Viktor’s chest. “I wish you’d stop underselling yourself, Yuuri.”

“I’m not underselling—”

“—yes, you are,” Viktor said firmly, hugging Yuuri closer.

“But—” and then he was cut off, not by Viktor shushing him—although that was Viktor’s plan—but rather, by his own loud yawn.

“Okay, you need sleep," Viktor declared. “I could see you rubbing your eyes all during lunch.” Yuuri nodded into his chest. “Come on.” Reluctantly, he pushed Yuuri away just a bit so he could take his hand and lead him towards his—no, their—room.

“It's a bit boring in here,” Viktor sighed as they walked in. “Perhaps some of those posters you hid under your bed back in Hasetsu—”

“Viktor, I swear to god, if I weren't so exhausted I would stab you with my skates,” Yuuri muttered. Viktor laughed and kissed the top of Yuuri’s head.

“You can stab me with your skates tomorrow,” he said.

“I didn't even bring the posters,” said Yuuri. _Well, not_ **_all_ ** _of them, at least._

“Well, I suppose I can unpack for you, then,” Viktor said, smirking.

 _Damn it, how do you always know when I'm lying?_ “I can do it myself,” said Yuuri.

“I do hope you brought the ones that caught my good side,” Viktor mused. Yuuri mumbled something that sounded very much like _every side is your good side._ “But for now, you can dig some pajamas out of that backpack, because you are going to bed. Got it?”

“You're not my coach anymore,” Yuuri muttered.

“No, I'm not. I'm your fiancé, and you are going to bed. Got it?”

Yuuri sighed and dug out a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt. “You're going to play the fiancé card all the time, aren't you?”

“It's my job,” said Viktor. “I never said you couldn't do the same.”

Yuuri nodded as he changed, quickly, shyly, and then sat down on the bed. “Viktor?”

“Yeah?”

“I—I'm really glad I'm here.”

“Oh, Yuuri.” Viktor sat down on the bed next to Yuuri and hugged him close. “I am too.”

Yuuri yawned again, louder this time, a yawn large enough that he actually started to get a little teary-eyes.

Kissing away his tears, despite their having nothing to do with actual sadness, Viktor gently guided Yuuri so he was laying down.

“For the record, I am most definitely not tucking you in,” he said as he most definitely tucked Yuuri in. “And I certainly am not going to kiss you goodnight and tell you how much I love you.”

(Spoiler alert: he certainly _was_ going to kiss Yuuri goodnight.)

“I didn't say it enough before the Finals,” Viktor said after he did in fact tell Yuuri that he loved him, once in English and once in Russian. “I should have been saying it since… I don't even really know.” _Since Sochi._ “So I have to make up for it now.”

“Makes sense,” said Yuuri. “I love you too.”

Viktor smiled, smoothed the hair away from Yuuri’s face, and kissed his forehead. “I'll be back soon,” he promised. “Just gotta walk Makkachin before he pees on the couch.”

“You'll stay with me after?” Yuuri asked, inhibitions all but removed as he sank into the sheets.

“Always,” said Viktor. “Now get some rest, Yuuri. Training starts tomorrow, and I know Yakov doesn't have my patience for a sleepy student.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	3. an encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are not new to this piece, please reread chapter 1, as I made a few timeline edits.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than usual—please let me know whether you like the longer or the shorter ones better!
> 
> And finally, HUGE thanks to my pal hyaciinths, who not only betaread this chapter (fun fact: they betaread ALL my chapters), but actually also posted it for me since I don't have my laptop.

Training with Yakov, Yuuri found, was wholeheartedly different from training with Viktor. Most obviously, Yuuri had had Viktor’s undivided attention, as opposed to having to share with the whole team. In a way, it was a good thing; he had always felt a little on the spot last season, but occasionally he did feel like he didn’t know what he was doing. Moreover, it was pretty clear that he was always at the back end of Yakov’s priority list, which wasn’t surprising or anything, but still made it a bit harder.

At least Yurio wasn’t really around, as he was still doing most of his training with Lilia. Sometimes he wasn’t even on the ice, instead going with Lilia to her ballet studio.

“Reminds me a little of when I used to train with Minako-sensei,” Yuuri mused, watching Yurio start taking off his skates to go with Lilia. “Why didn’t you let me train there more last season, Viktor?”

“In hindsight, I probably should have, and my reasons for not doing so were probably a bit selfish,” Viktor admitted.

“Vitya, leave him alone,” Yakov chastised from across the rink.

“What? You’re neglecting him,” Viktor protested.

“And you need to practice yourself,” Yakov retorted.

“But do I, though?” Viktor mused.

“Yes, you shithead, you do!” Yakov almost shouted. “You didn't skate last season, so you need to practice—”

“Alright, alright,” Viktor said breezily. “If Yakov wants practicing, let's show him practicing.”

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Yuuri asked, but from Viktor’s face, he could tell that the answer was yes.

“Death match. Whoever wins gets to decide what we do on Sunday.”

“Sunday’s our only day off this month, Viktor,” said Yuuri. “Do you really want to compete with such high stakes?”

“Don't be nervous,” Viktor encouraged.

Yuuri smirked. “Nervous? I'm not nervous. That was a warning. Sunday’s our only day off this month, Viktor. Do you _really_ _want_ to compete with such high stakes?”

“Absolutely,” said Viktor. “As long as I get a kiss for good luck.”

“I suppose I can give you that,” said Yuuri. “After all, you’ll need it.” He leaned up and kissed Viktor’s cheek.

“Confidence is a good look on you,” Viktor mused, whispering his observation into Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri blushed profusely. “Oh—thanks—um, are you ready?”

“What are you doing?” Yakov asked.

“Technical death match,” Viktor explained. “We take turns trying to do something that would earn more technical points than what the other just did. If you don't beat the other’s points, either because you botch the move or you fall or whatever, you lose. Or you can surrender if you can't come up with something, or you get tired.”

“We could all do that,” said Yakov.

“What’re you talking about?” asked Mila, skating over to them from across the rink.

“A new game we could play,” said Yakov. He quickly explained the rules to Mila.

“Ooooh, that sounds fun,” said Mila. “I’m in. Georgi! Come play this new game with us!”

Georgi skated over right away. He had recently heard a rumor that Anya’s relationship with the ice dancer was on the rocks, and while his rink-mates had the sense to know that the rumor was almost certainly false, they also had the sense to know that telling Georgi that would be utterly disastrous.

“Yura, put your skates back on and go play,” said Lilia.

“What? But we were going to go to your studio today.”

“Yes, and now we’re not. Go join your rink-mates. You can’t train with me all the time.”

“Fine,” he muttered, re-tying his laces.

 

* * *

 

 _Why **can't** I train with Lilia all the time?  _ Yuri wondered, somewhat bitterly, as he finally took off his skates and began to pack them away. Then he laughed a bit. _Who thought I would be asking myself that a year ago?_

Truth was, after the initial irritation at Lilia’s intensity—and once they had given up on the frankly horrible idea of Yuri and Yakov’s _living_ with her—Yuri had come to enjoy his time with her. As quick as she was to criticize him, she was equally as quick to praise him, and unlike the horror that was his brief time “training” with Viktor in Hasetsu, Lilia actually took the time to explain what it was he was doing well and what he was doing poorly.

Eventually, they had started becoming something of friends. Lilia would take him for coffee sometimes, when they knew they would be practicing late, or they would sit for awhile after practice and talk, or talk during lunch.

And then things changed again, when Yuri’s grandfather got ill. Lilia, ever perceptive, realized it almost immediately, and when she had confronted Yuri about it, he begged her to remain silent, not to tell his rinkmates or even Yakov. To this day, he was pretty sure none of them knew.

But Lilia knew. When Nikolai was hospitalized for two weeks, Lilia moved in with Yuri, made him dinner, made sure he was holding up off the ice, told him to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

Not once had Yuri said _You're not my mother_.

That was when _Yuri_ started to change. Having Lilia in his home, as opposed to the other way around, or only seeing her on the ice, touched him somehow. Something about her getting to know his cats, the way she tsked at the laundry all over his room, seeing her standing at the stove and her bun hitting the top of the low ceiling. One night she had decided enough was enough and began wearing her hair in a ponytail to cook.

And he wanted to be just like her, not just because he thought being like her would help him win the Grand Prix, but because he wanted to be like her, as a person. Lilia’s grace, her sensitivity, and, as he had now learned, her kindness; her _love,_ all of which she maintained while simultaneously having the fire, the intensity, the toughness, that he had first seen, inspired him to no end.

When Viktor and Yuuri had said that he had finally found his _agape_ at the Rostelecom Cup, that was because his _agape_ was no longer just his grandfather. It was his grandfather and Lilia.

And here he was now, having won the Grand Prix, having gotten silver in the World Championships, but he still wasn't close enough to being like Lilia for his liking. There was something he was missing, something that separated him from her, and he thought that if he trained with her and only with her, all day and every day, that he would find that gap and bridge it.

Cold air hit him as he exited the rink. It wasn't dark yet, but the heat of the sun had long left its light behind. He pulled his hood over his head—of course today he had been stupid enough to leave his hat at home.

The streets were mostly quiet, save for a few people walking their dogs, leaving shops as they closed, getting in cars. A few teenagers stood on a street corner, and another few sat on a bench on the sidewalk across the street, waiting for the bus.

“Holy shit—Yura?!”

Yuuri looked over to see that one of the teenagers on the street corner had left her group of friends and was now running towards Yuri.

She had long, wavy dark hair and piercing blue eyes, highlighted by dramatic makeup that put Georgi’s ridiculous setup to shame, and she was wearing a lacy shirt and tight black jeans.

“Um… hi? Do—Do I know you?”

She seemed familiar, but Yuri couldn’t place her.

The girl gasped, eyes widening. “You mean to say that you don’t remember me?” she cried. “We were best friends as children! How could you possibly forget?”

And then it hit him. “Katerina? Katerina Vasilieva?”

“Yes!” she squealed. “Oh, Yura, I’ve missed you so much! How are you—wait, hold on, no. Come meet my friends!”

“I—I didn’t know you lived here!” said Yuri. “I thought you moved away…”

“Yes, but that was years ago, and now I’m back! And what’s with you calling me Katerina, like I’m so much older? We’re friends; you can call me Katya!”

“Okay, okay. Katya—wow, I can’t believe it! It’s been what, ten years?”

“Yes… oh, I suppose it makes sense that you’ve forgotten me, then,” Katya sighed. “But I never forgot you, Yura—not for a single second!”

They reached the street corner. Katya waved to her friends. “Oh, Yura, don’t be shy!” she exclaimed when she noticed that Yuri was trailing behind a bit. “You always were so closed off, even as a kid. But you’ve got no reason to be closed off now, do you?”

“What—what do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that _you won the Grand Prix Final in your senior debut and broke a world record?!_ And then won a _silver medal_ at the _World Championships?!_ Come on, Yura, you have no reason to be shy! Y’know, all my friends are figure skating fans too. They’ll absolutely lose their minds when they find out that—”

“—Is that Yuri Plisetsky?!”

“—NO WAY!”

“Oh, god, it’s the triplets in teenage form,” Yuri muttered as the two other girls ran towards him and all started talking at once.

“Girls, calm down,” Katya chastised. “He’s only a guy!”

“Yeah, a really _cute_ one—Yuri, do you have a girlfriend?” asked the one on Katya’s left.

“Alina! Yura, ignore them,” said Katya. “They’re just excited.”

“It—it's alright,” Yuri stammered.

“Well, don’t be a stranger!” said Alina. “Come talk to us!”

“Yes, Yuri, please talk to us,” the other girl begged.

“That’s Vitaliya, by the way,” said Katya. “And yes, Yura, please come talk to us! It’s been so long!”

“Alright, but I have to go soon,” said Yuri. “My grandfather will get worried.”

“Yes, of course, we won’t keep you for long!”

* * *

 

 “Katyusha, how could you not tell us you were friends with Yuri Plisetsky?” Alina asked as they sat down. Vitaliya nodded almost violently from next to her.

“Oh, it was so long ago,” said Katya, “but we were best friends when we were children—which is why it was ever so sad that you couldn’t remember me, Yura!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Yuri said sheepishly.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Katya. “It broke my heart, but it makes sense—and you remember me now!”

“Are you still dancing?” Yuri asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, of course I am—and speaking of that, how on earth is it that you get to train with Lilia Baranovskaya?! That’s just so _utterly_ unfair!”

“Oh… she knows my coach,” said Yuri.

“Now that you know I’m around, you have to introduce us. Please, Yura?” Katya begged, blinking her sparkly blue eyes at him.

“Yeah—yeah, of course,” said Yuri. “If we ever have free time, that is. Katya, I’m sorry, but it’s going to be dark soon and both my grandfather and Lilia will kill me if I don’t get home soon. It was great to see you again.”

 _“Wait!”_ All three girls jumped up to catch up with him. “Can we have your number? And your autograph? And a selfie with you? Please?”

Yuri sighed. “Okay, fine, but quickly.”

 

* * *

 

 _Katya Vasilieva… what are the odds?_  Yuri asked himself as he finally left Katya and her friends. It really had been years since he had seen her, but admittedly he too was a little surprised that he had forgotten her.

Well… not really. Truth was, his memories of his childhood were very fuzzy, and he didn’t make an effort to change that because…

He bit his lip, trying not to cry. _Don’t think about it. Focus on Katya._

She was right; they had been close friends as kids. Katya was two years older than he was and lived a few doors down. She started ballet when she was four and had always had that flair for the dramatic that she had displayed earlier, batting her eyelids, gasps and exclamations, the whole nine yards.

A few memories began filtering back in. Yuri had adored her, following her every step and gazing at her and how very pretty she was. At first, people had teased him, saying that he must have a crush on her, but that wasn’t it. He just liked her and her dresses and her dancing. Whenever she received a new costume for a performance or got new dance clothes, she would show them off for him…

_He was five years old. Katerina was seven. He was over at her house to play, but she wasn’t back from dance class yet. Her mother said he could wait for her in her room._

_Yuri loved Katerina’s room, loved staring at the white and turquoise walls with pictures of flowers and butterflies, loved sitting on the ground and running his hand over the fluffy pink carpet and even fluffier white rug at the foot of her bed, loved sitting on her pink and turquoise and white bed and staring at the pretty flowery thing hanging from the ceiling. And he loved, loved, loved when she would let him peek into her closet and look at her dresses and dance costumes. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to try one on, but he was too scared to ask._

_Her mother had said she wouldn’t be home for another twenty minutes… and Yuri knew that some of those costumes were years old and wouldn’t fit Katerina anymore… surely she wouldn’t mind if he tried one of those old ones on!_

_Giggling, he opened her closet and looked inside. There were just so many pretty costumes—how could he possibly decide?_

_And then he remembered one that he had especially liked, from a recital a year or so ago. A dark blue dress, sparkly on the top and flowy underneath, with a big blue flower on the side and a flower hairpiece. He knew that **that** one didn’t fit anymore; she had said so. But he was pretty sure it would fit him. Hmm, maybe he could find it—aha! Yes! There it was!_

_Quickly, before he could regret it, he pulled the costume out and took it off of its hanger. The hairpiece wasn’t there, but that was alright; his hair was too short for there to be a good place to put it. What mattered was the dress. He was going to put it on, just for a little bit. Just so he could see what it felt like._

_Still moving too quickly to think about what he was doing, he took off his shorts and t-shirt and slipped on the dress. He tried to do it over his head first, but there was something underneath. Oh, right, Katerina had told him about this. Girls’ ballet costumes had those. A leotard, she’d called it. He tried again, this time going feet-first. This time, it went on easily. He pulled his arms through the straps, straightened it out a bit, and then went over to Katerina’s mirror to have a look._

_His eyes widened. He looked so pretty, just as pretty as Katerina! And he felt pretty too. He left the mirror and began dancing around the room, laughing. This was amazing! He could do this all—_

_“Yurachka? What are you doing?”_

_Katerina was back._

_Oops. Well, surely she’d like it. “Katerina! Katerina, look at me! I look just like you!” Katerina started laughing. “What?” Yuri asked. “What’s so funny?”_

_“Yurachka, you can’t wear my costumes,” she said. “They’re for girls.”_

_“Oh… Well, then let’s play dress up, and I’ll pretend I’m a girl. Then can I wear it?”_

_“Well… I guess so. But only pretending, okay?”_

_“Yeah, okay. Only pretending.”_

Yuri blinked a few times. He had totally forgotten about that day up until now, but now that he remembered, he couldn’t help but feel something like déjà vu. Something about that day reminded him of something else…

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

_That’s how I feel about Lilia._

He reached his house, unlocked the door, walked in. His grandfather was already making dinner.

“There you are,” said Nikolai.

“Sorry I’m late, Grandpa,” said Yuri. “I bumped into someone I knew on the way home. Do you remember Katerina Vasilieva?”

“Katerina… was that the little girl you used to play with?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Yes, I remember her,” said Nikolai. “Always was a bit dramatic, no? Like your rinkmate.”

“Oh, she could put Georgi to shame,” said Yuri. “Yeah, I bumped into her. We talked for a bit.”

“Well, that’s nice,” said Nikolai. “Now sit down and eat; it’s getting late.”

Later that night, Yuri was lying awake in bed with one of his cats curled up next to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about that day with Katya and the navy blue ballet costume, and about Lilia and the gap he had been trying to bridge between being himself and being her.

Whatever. He didn’t have time to think about this now. He had to go to sleep, so he could train tomorrow morning—preferably with Lilia…

 

* * *

 

_He is at the ice rink—at Hasetsu, maybe? or somewhere he skated in competition? Not at his home rink, that’s for sure. A girl is on the ice, skating his Agape routine. He cannot tell who she is._

_Her skating is flawless, possibly even better than when he skated it in Barcelona—not necessarily from a technical standpoint, but her performance is absolutely mind-blowing; she skates with as much agape as Chris does with eros… and that says a lot._

_The fact that she's skating his routine better than he does makes him jealous, but not in the usual way. He isn't jealous of her skating—he is jealous of her._

_The routine ends; she raises her arms the way he always does at the end. The audience bursts into cheers, throws flowers._

_A voice breaks out over the loudspeaker, one of the tv announcers—that's odd; they usually can't be heard from the ice._

_“Well, there you have it! Another flawless performance by sixteen-year-old Yuri Plisetsky!”_

_And that is when Yuri recognizes his own face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References used: [Katerina's bedroom](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/410883165975896375/) [Katerina's costume](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/14/2c/90/142c9022caeae7377135d19c7ac59867.jpg)
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	4. costumes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so in case you don’t know when skating competitions happen, which I didn’t until very recently, right now it is July of 2017, three-ish months after the World Championships. more on how skating competitions work [here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/post/155804584191/himawari693-dear-yoi-fandom-i-love-you-so).
> 
> also, HUGE thanks to orthaon (seung-gii on Tumblr) for beta'ing this at ass o'clock at night! <3

Yuri woke up the next morning unable to stop thinking about his dream. In his mind, all he could see was a blonde girl landing jumps perfectly with her arms in the air, swaying to the music as though it were a part of her, skating with more _agape_ than he had ever dreamed possible.

And she had his face.

Well… not _exactly_ his face. Her features were softer, rounder, more delicate, but the likeness was unmistakable, unquestionable. For all intents and purposes, she was Yuri in female form.

Yuri couldn't help but be a little nervous. He didn't believe in signs and he certainly didn't believe in the whole a-dream-is-the-fulfillment-of-a-wish thing, but at the same time, there was a part of him that thought that the dream couldn't possibly be completely meaningless, or a mere product of having seen Katya the previous night and remembering her navy blue dance costume.

 _Don't think about that now,_ he told himself. _Just focus on training._

 

* * *

 

But he couldn't focus on training. The image of the blonde girl flashed behind his eyes, appearing every time he blinked. Even when his eyes were open, he could see her, skating with the grace of an angel and the power of a queen, with the innocent beauty that Yuri had seen all those years ago in Katya and with the awe-inspiring radiance that he had come to see in Lilia.

Everything he had always wanted to be, that he had always longed for, he had seen in his dreams, in that girl.

 _Is that what I want?_ he asked himself. _To be a girl?_

His mind flitted back to the day in Katya’s bedroom, how he had convinced her to let him wear her navy blue dress.

_“Well, then let’s play dress up, and I’ll pretend I’m a girl. Then can I wear it?”_

_“Well… I guess so. But only pretending, okay?”_

_“Yeah, okay. Only pretending.”_

Yuri knew he had had conversations like this with Katya before, negotiations of you be this and I'll be that, you can wear this costume and I'll wear that one. But for some reason, this seemed different. Those conversations had always felt natural, part of the protocol for playing pretend. This one… there was something strange about it. Something about how he had asked to play pretend just so he could wear the dress.

Had he been playing pretend before, before Katya had come into the room? Had he been pretending to be a girl?

It didn't feel like pretending. He wasn't really sure what it felt like, but it didn't feel like pretending.

And then there was the girl in his dream. She hadn't been pretending; she was very much Not Pretending, so much so that she was skating Agape in a competition.

Agape. His routine. His face. His name.

She was him. Or, perhaps, he was her.

 _Is that what I want?_ he asked again, and again, and again as the day went on, his mind half-focused on training but half lost in the question.

At half past twelve, they all broke for lunch. Lilia had brought him something, a sandwich, insistent that he wasn't packing lunch properly when he left the house.

“Does your grandfather know how little you eat?” she asked for the five billionth time. “You can't carry on like this, Yura; you need to eat properly.”

“My grandfather isn't awake when I leave the house,” Yuri explained.

“Well then,” said Lilia, “if you don't start eating properly, I just might have to call your grandfather and tell him that you're not eating enough.”

“I'm fine,” Yuri muttered. “Don't need you to fuss over me.”

“Do you honestly think saying that will stop me?” Lilia asked incredulously. “Because if so, you have clearly learned nothing from your year of training with me.”

“Why do you fuss over me?” Yuri asked, although he half knew the answer.

“Because you’re my student,” said Lilia. “And I care about you.”

Yuri smiled. That last part had been his guess.

“Take better care of yourself, Yura,” Lilia chastised, even going so far as to ruffle his hair a bit. Yuri didn’t stop her.

He ate the sandwich—finally, something felt _normal._ This day was making no sense.

For the rest of the day, Yuri managed to not think about the girl as much. They played the technical death match game again, and the competition managed to distract Yuri from his dream for a while—as did Viktor and Yuuri’s constant flirting, although _that_ distraction was far from welcome.

“I am going to murder you one day,” Yuri muttered when Yuuri and Viktor kissed _yet again._

“No you’re not,” Viktor replied, wrapping his arms around Yuuri, kissing the top of his head. Yuuri gazed up at him with soft shining eyes, reaching up to play with the little bit of hair that always fell over Viktor’s face.

“You absolutely disgust me,” Yuri declared before skating away, soaring into a perfect triple axel with both arms—and middle fingers—raised.

“Would he get bonus points for that in a competition?” Yuuri wondered.

“If Yakov were judging, absolutely,” Viktor replied, pulling Yuuri even closer. “That was an amazing jump, Yurio!”

“Yeah, it sure would be nice to see you do it for once, instead of standing around the ice and doing nothing all day!”

“He has a point,” said Yuuri, leaning up again to kiss Viktor’s cheek. “We really should be skating.”

“Oh, fine,” Viktor sighed, but he wasn’t letting go. “Oh… yes, I suppose I should let go of you…”

Slowly, reluctantly, they untangled from each other.

“WELL ABOUT TIME,” Yakov almost roared. “In case you’d forgotten, we were playing a game, and you two have each lost about three turns.”

“Well, whose turn is it now?” Viktor asked casually.

“YOURS, ASSHOLE.”

 

* * *

 

Once the death match was over—which he had won—Yuri’s mind returned to his dream and to the girl in it. The confusion had been replaced by an odd bittersweetness. On the one hand, the more he thought about her, the more he liked thinking about her and how pretty she was and how beautifully she skated, the same way he had with Katya as a child and with Lilia now. But on the other hand, the more he thought about her, the more he felt like she was unattainable, unreachable, like Katya, like Lilia. She was all he couldn’t be…

But was she all that he _wanted_ to be?

If only there were a way he could test it, a way he could figure out whether this was the answer. If only he could mimic his dream, mimic that day in Katya’s room, mimic Katya, mimic the girl, mimic Lilia…

Mila’s voice floated across the rink, “Yakov? I have that whole collection of my old costumes. I know we have to figure out what to do with them, but can we leave them here for now?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” said Yakov. “Just leave them hanging in that storage closet between the locker rooms.”

_Hmmmm…_

It was Katerina’s room all over again. Old costumes, ones that wouldn’t fit their owner, easily accessible. Tempting and tantalizing, enthralling and enticing…

But he could never do that. When would he ever get a chance to be at the rink alone?

_Don’t think about that right now. Focus on training._

Easier said than done. The more he tried to focus on training, the more he thought about wearing one of Mila’s old costumes and soaring across the ice like the girl in his dreams.

Why was this all coming up now? Until his run-in with Katya last night, he hadn’t been thinking any of these weird thoughts… had he?

Well, there was all the not being enough like Lilia stuff, and that had been going on since winning the Grand Prix… and there was how he felt as a child about Katya…

This really needed to be tested. For science. Not because he knew he wanted to or anything. This was for science. Just to _see_ if he wanted to—and he might not. This was only a test.

Only a test.

And it wasn’t like it was going to happen tonight.

A few minutes later, he was interrupted again, this time by a loudly ringing phone.

“Who brought their phone inside?” Yakov asked irritatedly. “Thought I made it clear that that wasn’t allowed.”

Yuri knew that he had, but was hoping, hoping, hoping that someone else had—

“—Pretty sure that’s yours, Yura,” said Mila.

“Stop ratting on me, hag,” Yuri muttered.

Yakov glared at Yuri. “Yura—”

“—Yakov, piss off, I said he could have his phone,” Lilia interrupted. “Go see who it is, Yura.”

_From Grandpa: Hi Yurachka—Mr. Sokolov invited me over for dinner so I will be home late. There are leftovers from last night in the fridge. Eat properly; Lilia told me she is worried._

“Everything alright, Yura?” Lilia asked.

“Not anymore, now that you’ve told my grandfather to worry about me,” Yuri muttered.

But inside, his mind was racing at a million miles a minute. If his grandfather was going to be home late, that meant he could stay on the ice later…

“Yakov? Can I stay late tonight? I’ll lock up.”

“Did I give you a set of keys?” Yakov asked. “I know I gave some of you keys, but I forget if I gave you a set.”

“I think everyone except Katsudon has them,” said Yuri. “You had some made for me after the Grand Prix last year.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” said Yakov. “Alright, sure. Don’t make a mess.”

“And don’t stay too late, Yura,” said Lilia. “Do you want me to stay? I can give you a ride home.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Thank you though.”

“You worry me,” Lilia sighed. “But have fun. And be careful.”

 

* * *

 

 _Okay,_ Yuri told himself as he pressed the remote control. Everyone had left, and he had found a costume that he liked, a dress which flowed around him similarly to the way Katerina’s had all those years ago. _Just for this, I am going to imagine that I am a girl. I’m just going to skate Agape as a girl, just like in my dream._

At first, he—no, she—had trouble getting into that mindset, and as he—she—skated into the middle of the rink, it felt very confusing.

But then the music started, and it all made sense somehow. She didn’t have to think about it at all, and it felt amazing. She had never felt more connected to the music, had never felt it in every part of her being as she did now.

And the agape—she had never felt this much of it. She felt the love that she had for her grandfather and for Lilia, but also something new, a new beauty and grace and love that she had never felt before.

 _Am I pretending?_ she asked herself as she soared into her first triple axel.

It didn’t feel like pretending. It felt natural, felt easy, felt real.

_This is real._

She was too lost in the music and the skating to hear that someone had come in.

That someone happened to be Mila, returning to the rink after having left her wallet in the locker room. She had planned on going directly there and then leaving, but when she heard the familiar strains of “On Love: Agape,” she decided to watch Yuri practice. _Perhaps Yura would like a ride home,_ she mused as she looked down into the rink. _His house is on the—_

And there was Yuri Plisetsky, skating in one of _her_ old costumes. She remembered it well; it was from her final free skate in the junior division. It was odd seeing it used for a program like Agape, seeing as she had used it for something far more upbeat, but it fit the music—and oh, did it fit _Yuri,_ all blue-grey and white and flowing, with black swirls that looked like leaves and colorful crystals scattered like rain. Every detail of the costume seemed _made_ for Yuri to wear.

But best yet, it was easy to stop focusing on the costume after a few moments and focus on the skating. Mila had always worried that having Yuri skate in one of Viktor’s old costumes would take attention away from him, but nobody would remember one of Mila’s old junior costumes, especially when Yuri wore it so much better. On Yuri, it served as a perfect addition to his skating—which was better than ever. He was raising both arms with each jump, making it look as though he had wings, and the _performance_ was just incredible. It was as though Yuri Plisetsky was a completely different person.

And, in a way, she was. Yuri Plisetsky, temporary girl, dancing across the ice, oblivious to Mila’s entrance. All there was was the music and her body moving to it, how she felt as though she had wings with every jump and spin and sway.

She didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want the song to end, didn’t want the feeling to end. She wanted to stay just like this.

But the song was ending; she could hear it and she could feel it in the muscle memory that always came along with skating this routine.

The last notes rang out; she stood in the center of the rink and raised her arms, swaying her back, like she always did. She felt like a swan.

It was only then that she heard someone crying. She whirled around, looking for the source, terrified. Who had seen her?

Her… her… her… the spell was shattering and it was time to come back to reality but she didn’t want to go…

“Yuri!”

Yuri turned to see that Mila was at the kiss and cry… crying.

“Yuri, that was beautiful,” she said, wiping tears away. “That’s the best you’ve ever done it!”

“How long have you been there?” Yuri demanded. “And why are you here, anyway?”

“I came back because I left my wallet in the locker room,” Mila explained, “and I needed it to go out with friends tonight. But I saw most of the program.”

“Dammit,” Yuri muttered.

“Yuri, you looked amazing out there,” said Mila. “I don’t know what you did differently, but that was incredible.”

“I skated in a dress,” Yuri reminded her. “Yours, to be exact.” _And I also imagined that I was a girl but you don’t need to know that._

“Yes, you did,” said Mila. “And you looked far better in it than I ever did. Yuri, you’ve got to do that for the others. Who cares if you wear a dress? Vitya grew out his hair and wore feminine costumes for years and look how far it got him.”

Yuri bit her lip. _It’s not just about the dress,_ she wanted to say, but didn’t. _I was imagining that I was a girl. I’m still doing it now—I’m still doing it now?! God dammit._

“Listen, just think it over,” said Mila. “You don’t have to, but I think it really would be awesome if you did.” Yuri nodded slowly. “Need a ride home? You’re on the way to where I’m meeting my friends.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri said. “Mila, you won’t tell them, will you?”

Mila shook her head. “That’s your business to share. But if you ever want to skate in one of my costumes again, I can cover for you.”

“Alright,” said Yuri. “Thanks, Mila.”

“Did you just thank me, Yura? Perhaps skating in a dress did you good.”

“Shut up, hag,” Yuri muttered.

“Go change,” said Mila. “I’ll meet you in the front room.”

 

* * *

 

Once the dress was off, the spell was broken. Yuri pulled on _his_ jeans and sweatshirt and shoes, putting _his_ skates back into _his_ bag… and then it was time to put the dress away. He didn’t want to say goodbye to it, but perhaps he would get to wear it again another night…

He left the closet, locked it, and then began going through the rink, turning off lights as he went. As the rink went dark, so did the joy Yuri had felt on the ice.

“All set to lock up?” Mila asked as Yuri entered the front room.

“Yeah, just gotta lock the door,” said Yuri, shifting his bag a bit on his shoulder.

“Alright then,” said Mila. “Let’s get you home.”

 

* * *

 

The lights were out when Mila pulled up to the driveway. _So Grandpa isn’t home. Thank god._

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Yura,” said Mila. “Take care of yourself.”

“Thanks for the ride,” said Yuri, and he climbed out of the car.

He was about halfway through turning on the lights inside when his phone buzzed.

 

> **Lilia ❤️: Yurachka, are you home yet?**

Yuri checked the clock. 8:30. Okay, so it wasn’t too late.

 

> **Me: Yes, just got home. Thanks for asking**
> 
> ****Lilia ❤️** : It’s rather late, Yura. Tell me you didn’t walk home all by yourself.**
> 
> **Me: I didn’t. Mila came back to the rink because she forgot something and she gave me a ride home**
> 
> ****Lilia ❤️** :** **That was nice of her. Alright, go eat something and then go to bed.**
> 
> **Me: Will do. Goodnight, Lilia**
> 
> ****Lilia ❤️** : See you tomorrow, Yura. Oh, and one more thing.**
> 
> **Me: Yeah?**
> 
> ****Lilia ❤️** : I’m proud of you.**

Yuri bit his lip as he put the phone down, trying not to cry.

_I want to be like you, Lilia… but will you still be proud of me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference for Mila's costume](http://www.robe-de-patinage-artistique.biz/images/2/comptition-robe-de-patinage-sur-glace-blanc-sans-manches-coutume-faite-pour-adapter-t527000109702.jpg)
> 
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>  
> 
> [Click here](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com/post/158327067295/yuri-yuri-turned-to-see-that-mila-was-at-the) to see an amazing drawing of Yuri and Mila by [witchlightsands](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	5. back in the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before we go any further, it’s time I make some things clear with you. First off, because apparently this still needs to be made clear, ROMANTIC OTAYURI SHIPPERS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE. I can’t stop you from reading I guess, but DO NOT share this and DO NOT make art for it. Romantic Otayuri makes me super uncomfortable as a minor and survivor so if you ship them, please just be respectful of that and not share this around or make art of it.
> 
> Second note: I suppose I should have said this in the beginning (and I might actually put this in the first chapter AN), but I am cis. I am trying my best to create a respectful and realistic portrayal of Yuri’s experience as a trans girl, but can only do so through what I hear from others and what I read. I know that some people would say that as such, I should not be writing this piece, and I respect that viewpoint and understand where it is coming from. As a queer neurodivergent woman of color, I am well aware that there are countless examples of people not from my communities trying to portray my communities, but that do so disrespectfully and inaccurately, and I’ll admit, I’ve been one of those people who’s said that white, cishet, neurotypical, etc, people stop writing stories about us. However—and I recognize that this may be hypocritical—I am going to continue writing, because as much as it upsets me when people do these things, I also believe that writers do need to learn how to respectfully and accurately write stories with people who aren’t like them.
> 
> If you are a member of the trans/NB/GNC community and are willing to give me feedback, please, by all means, do so, either by commenting or via Tumblr @mvpyurio. And if you would rather not read this because I am cis, I respect your choice, send love, and wish you all the best.
> 
> Now… on with the story!

_Three weeks later • 6:30 PM • Yuri Plisetsky’s bedroom…_

This was getting out of hand.

Every single night, Yuri was dreaming about that night on the ice, and even during the daytime kept slipping into that pretending-not-pretending state of being a girl. At first, Yuri had tried to control it somehow, reserve it as a special treat, but it just kept happening.

At the same time, more and more childhood memories were filtering in. Yuri had repressed almost everything from when his mother had died up to when he was around eleven or twelve, able to start competing in the junior division, but running into Katya, and then remembering that day in her room, changed all of that. Now, new memories were coming in almost every day, ones of going to school, of first starting to skate, of admiring Viktor Nikiforov and his shiny long hair. And there it was, that feeling again, the same one he had had about Katya and the one he had now about Lilia.

Until that point, he had been calling it desire, but now that wasn’t really the right word. Well, it was… but there was something else, something he didn’t have the word for.

Sighing, he pulled out his phone and opened Instagram. He didn’t use it too much these days himself, but he did like scrolling occasionally.

Naturally, the first post was one of Phichit’s, a picture of his hamsters all piled up in a hat, and then one of Mila and some friends, and so on… oh, and he had a new follower?

> **katyavasi1999 is now following you!**

Oh, right, he gave Katya his Instagram. _Hmmm, I wonder what she posts…_

He opened her profile and scrolled through the pictures a bit. There were a bunch of her with Alina and Vitaliya and some other teenagers, some of her dance performances… and then suddenly he saw something that looked like… there was no way…

> **katyavasi1999: Just found a bunch of my old dance costumes in my basement! I thought we’d given them away but I’m so glad we didn’t—I have so many good memories of these! #goodtimes ******❤️**** ** **❤️********

And there it was, the navy blue dress, and a whole bunch of other old dance costumes that Yuri began remembering as he stared at the picture…

_“What are you doing, Yurachka?”_

_“I like this one. Can we play pretend again?”_

Yuri shook his head. He had to be imagining things. There was no way he had worn her costumes more than once…

Well, there was one way he could find out…

**Me: Hey Katya I have a weird question**

**Katya: Oh hi Yura!!! So good to hear from you!! Sure, what's your question?**

**Me: Um… do you remember that day when I tried on your dance costume? It was navy blue and had sparkles and I wanted to play dress up in it**

**Katya: !!!!!! I totally do! It was so cute!!!!**

**Me: Did I ever try to do that more than once?**

**Katya: Yura, you don't remember?!?!**

**Katya: You did it all the time!!! It was so cute!**

**Katya: I even have pictures of it in one of my old photo albums!!!!**

**Katya: Want to see them??**

**Me: Yeah if you don't mind…**

**Katya: Give me just one second!!**

Yuri flopped back onto the bed, heart beating a bit faster and louder than usual. He wasn't sure he wanted these memories to resurface, but it was the only way for him to understand what was going on.

**5 new images from Katya**

**5 new images from Katya**

**5 new images from Katya**

**5 new images from Katya**

**5 new images from Katya**

**4 new images from Katya**

**Katya: Sorry about the bad quality, but here you go!! You were so adorable!**

Yuri took a deep breath and opened up the messages.

And there he was, in dozens of different little dresses, almost all of the ones in Katya’s Instagram post. Many of them featured him and Katya together, but some were just him, dancing around the room with the hugest smile, a smile even bigger than the one he had had when he won the Grand Prix.

The feeling was back, and suddenly Yuri figured out the word he was missing: _connection._ He felt _connection_ to Katya, _connection_ to Lilia, _connection_ to these photos. Like that had always been who she was.

_Oh look, I’m doing it again._

She began to wonder if she had ever done it back then, whether she had ever thought of herself as a girl when she was young and wearing those costumes. All she knew was that she was doing it now, that she was doing it more and more, and that she didn't really want to stop doing it.

_Wait, I don't want to stop?_

The thought had just come to her, naturally, but when she realized what she’d been thinking it came as a shock. Did she really not want to stop?

Hoping to prove herself wrong, she tried to shake it off, tried to return to seeing herself as a boy… but she couldn't do it. Every time she tried, it felt like a burden, felt uncomfortable, felt like trying to force herself into something that she wasn’t.

So in that sense, she didn't want to stop seeing herself as a girl. It wasn't any fun not to. It _hurt_ not to. And the more she tried to fight it, the worse it all felt.

She sighed again, putting the phone down and turning off the screen, and stared up at the ceiling.

_Why is this happening? Everything was fine until I bumped into Katya, and now all of a sudden I’m having all these memories and am feeling all of these things. What the fuck is this about?_

_Really?_ another voice in her head seemed to ask. _Weren’t you feeling all those things back then? Isn’t that why you wore all of Katya’s costumes?_

_How am I supposed to know?_ Yuri thought bitterly. _I barely remember what I was like back then._

All she had were those photos of her in Katya’s dresses, and hazy bits of floating memories… and what she was feeling now.

There was a knock at her door. “Come in,” said Yuri.

Her grandfather walked in. “Dinner is ready, Yurachka,” said Nikolai.

“Alright,” said Yuri. Usually, this would be when she tried to force herself back into feeling like a guy, but she was too tired to try. Ah well.

“Are you alright?” Nikolai asked. “You seem down, Yura.”

Yuri sighed. “Ever since I ran into Katya a few weeks ago, I’ve been remembering things. Things about when I was little. Before…” She trailed off, not wanting to say it.

But Nikolai knew. “Before your mother left?”

Yuri bit her lip, trying not to cry, and nodded silently.

“Come and eat, Yura,” Nikolai said softly, pulling Yuri off of the bed. “Let’s not talk about this on empty stomachs.”

They walked out of the room and to the table. Tears streamed silently down Yuri’s face.

“Yura, this is a good thing,” Nikolai said when Yuri was sitting and had had a few bites of food. “I had always worried… when your mother left, you refused to talk about anything. You were insistent that everything was fine and that you didn’t need help, and eventually it seemed like you didn’t remember that you had had a mother at all. And as time went on, it seemed like you just didn’t remember your childhood. And it worried me a lot. I was worried that if you kept hiding all of these memories from yourself, that you would always feel haunted and never know why. And now that you’re starting to remember some of your past, perhaps you can learn from it, and end up happier than you were before.”

Yuri wanted to argue. She wanted to tell her grandfather that he didn’t understand, that these memories were the reason that she never could be happy, that all this stuff about being a girl was making her miserable and that it was all the fault of remembering that day in Katya’s room.

But then she remembered how happy she had been that day, how happy she had been when skating in Mila’s costume. Happier than when she had won the Grand Prix.

Dammit, this made no sense.

“Eat, Yura,” Nikolai said gently. “It’ll help. I promise.”

Yuri nodded and finished her dinner.

~~~

**Me: Something is driving me crazy**

**Mila: lemme guess - skating in my costume?**

**Me: How did you know?**

**Mila: yura, have you ever texted me in your life?**

**Me: … fair enough**

**Mila: ok, talk to me kiddo, what’s going on?**

**Me: I can’t stop thinking about it. I keep wanting to… do it again.**

**Me: Skate in your costume again**

**Me: Mila… I keep thinking like I’m a girl. Like I want to be a girl.**

**Me: It doesn’t make any sense!**

**Mila: hmmm. how do you feel?**

**Me: How do I feel?**

**Me: I feel…**

**Me: Lost**

**Me: And scared**

**Me: And happy**

**Me: Why am I so sure that I'd rather be this than everything I’m supposed to be**

**Me: And that I'd rather do this than everything I’m supposed to do?**

**Mila: whoa kid calm down nobody said anything about to “supposed to” this or that**

**Mila: jeez, you’re worse than vitya in the drama department**

**Mila: but here’s the thing yura**

**Mila: you were always like that**

**Mila: before you started skating competitively & just in jr classes at the rink**

**Mila: you were so different from how you are now**

**Mila: you had longer hair, you skated around like you were dancing**

**Mila: you were so sweet and innocent except for your eyes**

**Mila: you always looked like a soldier and vitya and georgi and i were too young to understand why**

**Me: You’re not the first person to say that I looked like a soldier…**

**Mila: lemme guess, otabek altin?**

**Me: How did you know?**

**Mila: i’m a genius. but back to the point**

**Mila: when you first started your grandfather told yakov that you had had a little friend who had just moved away**

**Mila: a little girl**

**Mila: and you really missed having someone like a sister**

**Mila: that’s why we always skated together and still do now**

**Mila: and you always wanted to be like me… you really don’t remember any of this?**

**Me: I don’t remember anything from before I started skating competitively**

**Mila: well that was when everything changed**

**Me: What?**

**Mila: something happened during your first jr GP, and after that you became so different**

**Mila: that’s when all the ice tiger russian punk shit started happening**

**Mila: you became all tough guy, angry at everyone, refused to practice**

**Mila: nobody knows what happened, and you never talked about it**

**Mila: yakov is convinced that you don’t remember any of your childhood**

**Me: I don’t. And I don’t know what this thing about my first GP is about either**

**Mila: yikes**

**Mila: whatever, you have your reason and that’s not my business**

**Mila: listen, yura, whatever these feelings you have about skating in my costume or being a girl or whatever**

**Mila: i don’t think they’re new. you were like that when you were really little and maybe you don’t remember but i do**

**Mila: vitya does**

**Mila: yakov does**

**Mila: who knows about georgi but he might**

**Mila: i wish i had known that you didn’t remember any of this… i could have helped you more**

**Mila: but in the meantime, skate in my costumes whenever you like**

**Mila: that was the best skating i’ve ever seen in you, by a long shot**

**Me: I’ve heard of people before who are like**

**Me: Born in the wrong body?**

**Me: Like they’re born a boy but want to be a girl**

**Mila: more like they were told bc of their body that they’re one but in their mind and heart and soul if you believe in souls are the other**

**Mila: or neither**

**Mila: or both**

**Me: I think I’m a girl, Mila**

**Me: Inside. Heart or soul or whatever**

**Me: Fucking shit**

**Mila: okay**

**Mila: no need for fucking shit, that’s what chris is for**

**Me: OH MY GOD MILA GROSS**

**Me: Back to the point. Is it bad?**

**Mila: what, that you’re a girl?**

**Mila: why would it be?**

**Mila: you realize vitya had no idea what the fuck his gender was for awhile, right?**

**Mila: the long hair stuff when he was a kid**

**Mila: that wasn’t just for show that was not knowing what he was**

**Mila: now he’s like? forget how he described it but like, he’s fine with being called a guy but also is fine with being called anything?**

**Mila: point is, you wouldn’t be the first person to have gender stuff going on**

**Me: So people here wouldn’t mind?**

**Mila: yura have you met us?**

**Mila: we are literally the gayest skate team around**

**Mila: i'm a lesbian**

**Mila: yakov and lilia are both bi**

**Me: Wait what???!!!**

**Mila: georgi’s sexuality is anya and i think that counts**

**Me: That’s an unhealthy obsession, not a sexuality**

**Mila: ok fine whatever**

**Mila: but hello, VIKTOR AND YUURI**

**Mila: literally the token gays of figure skating**

**Me: Lilia is bi??!!!**

**Mila: you didn’t know that? that’s why she and yakov divorced**

**Mila: lilia fell in love with another ex dancer**

**Mila: alyona**

**Mila: she used to come by the rink**

**Mila: she and lilia split but i think they keep in touch?**

**Mila: seriously yura… if you’re a girl, literally nobody would mind**

**Mila: you’re still the same person, still an amazing skater, still our friend**

**Mila: vitya sees you like a little sibling and lilia is basically your mom and they both would still love you**

**Mila: i promise**

**Me: I’m not sure yet. I need to figure it out**

**Mila: take your time, kiddo**

**Mila: now, in the words of the great lilia baranovskaya, go the fuck to sleep**

**Me: I can assure you that she has never said that, at least not to me**

**Mila: she said it to me once**

**Mila: i was shook**

Yuri put her phone down again. _Still doing it._

At this point it wasn’t even conscious. It wasn’t doing… it was being.

Being… a girl.

_God dammit._

A soft _mrrrowww_ distracted her from her thoughts. And then another one.

Ah, right. Usually this was the time when Yuri was obligated to bring her cats onto the bed and cuddle with them. How could she possibly forget?

“C’mere, you two,” she cooed gently, scooping them onto the bed one at a time. “Your lives are so much simpler than mine. I’m guessing cats don’t worry about gender.”

Pirozkhi gazed up at her with a shocked and yet affectionate expression, seeming to say _Of course cats worry about gender, you walnut._

“You don’t give a shit if I’m a girl, do you?” Yuri asked. “I still feed you and things… right?”

Roza purred gently, nuzzling Yuri’s hand. Pirozkhi meowed again.

“Yeah, okay. You don’t care.”

_At least there’s that._

**Mila: you should tell lilia**

Yuri stared at the text for a solid two minutes before shakily typing a response.

**Me: You think she’ll be okay with it?**

**Mila: i know she will**

**Mila: just think about it, ok?**

**Mila: night, yura ** **❤️** ****

**Me: Night, hag ** **❤️** ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You said you wanted another introspective backstory chapter, right? Right?
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	6. oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin: a huge thanks to spiria on Tumblr for an AMAZING drawing of Yuri inspired by this piece! You can see it [here](https://spiria.tumblr.com/post/158196090721/ok-so-i-read-mvpyurios-tigress-fic-and-i)! Also, thanks to the-agendeer on Tumblr for helping me decide which direction this chapter would take. <3 <3 <3
> 
> You may have seen this on my Tumblr, but I am planning on making Yuri autistic! Please send any autistic Yuri headcanons to me via Tumblr!
> 
> One last thing before we begin: Instagram is going to become a bit of a thing in this fic. You already saw one Instagram post from Katya, and I promise that there will be more from the other characters in this piece. That’s why I’ve started a Tumblr blog called [Tigress Instagram Feed](http://tigressinstagramfeed.tumblr.com), where y’all can submit drawings of “screenshots” of the posts I mention in this fic! It will also be where I post special bonus Instagram “screenshots!”
> 
> On with the story!

_The next day…_

Mila was already on the ice when Yuri walked in. That was a surprise—these days, she was usually the first one there.

“Morning, Yura,” Mila said brightly, skating over to her.

“Hey,” said Yuri. “You’re here early.”

“I wanted to catch you before the others got here,” Mila explained. “Last night was intense.”

“So you’re here to torment me,” Yuri muttered.

“Aren’t I always here to torment you?” Mila asked mirthfully. “At least, according to you. That’s certainly how you’ve acted towards me over the past five years.”

“And I really wasn’t like that before?” Yuri closed her eyes for a moment before opening them. “I have no recollection. And it just doesn’t make sense.”

“But it’s true,” said Mila. “You were such a sweet little kid back then. When you started getting all tough and angry… Yakov told me that it was just you becoming a boy, but I never really understood that.”

“Looking back, all that tough stuff feels… I’m not really sure,” Yuri admitted. “I have no idea where it came from, and honestly it stopped really feeling real after I came back from Japan.”

“Well, you were a lot less like that when you came back,” Mila pointed out. “You were a lot more disciplined; you didn’t complain when you started working with Lilia… you were more like who you were when you were younger.”

“That’s what changed things,” said Yuri. “Lilia. Working with Lilia. Lilia changed everything for me. I thought at first it was just that I was skating better, but I was happier. I felt better. Lilia—” She broke off, biting her lip. “Lilia—”

“What is it, Yura?” Mila asked gently. “Hang on.” She skated over to the kiss and cry, quickly removed her skates, and walked over to sit next to Yuri. “Now. You were saying, about Lilia…”

Yuri sighed. To this day, she still hadn’t told anyone else about her grandfather’s hospitalization back before the Grand Prix. She certainly hadn’t planned on telling Mila.

But then again, Mila knew she was a girl.

“My grandfather got really sick before the Grand Prix,” Yuri explained. “He had to be in the hospital for two weeks, and Lilia was the only one who knew. She moved in with me while he was there, and we became really close… Mila, she was like my mother.”

Mila nodded. “I figured something like that had happened,” she said. “You and Lilia seemed to have a pretty normal student and coach dynamic for awhile, but then suddenly you guys started becoming really close. I didn’t pry into it, because it wasn’t my business, but I knew there was something. You seemed to be opening up. And _that_ was new. You were a really sweet kid, but you were so closed off. Nobody knew what was inside your head.”

“Lilia knows,” said Yuri, voice cracking a bit. “Lilia always knows—”

“And you want things to stay that way,” Mila said softly. “You want her to know about this whole girl thing, don’t you?” Yuri nodded. “Then tell her, Yura. If you want her to know, then tell her.”

“What if she doesn’t like it?” Yuri asked. Her left hand began trembling.

“Yura, Lilia absolutely adores you,” said Mila. “I’ve seen her. Whenever you’re on the ice, she’s watching you, and you can just see how much she loves you and how proud of you she is. That’s not going to change just because you’re a girl.”

“Promise?” Yuri asked.

Mila looked down to see that her rinkmate’s face had changed somehow. She seemed younger, more vulnerable. Like she had when they had first met.

“I promise,” said Mila. She wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine, sis.”

Yuri blinked. “D-did you just call me sis?”

“Got a problem with that?” Yuri shook her head. “Thought not. Now, am I coming with you to tell Lilia, or not?”

“Wait—wait, what? Today?”

“If you want,” said Mila. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. But if the only thing stopping you is what you think she’ll say…”

“I’m not ready yet,” said Yuri. “Is that alright?”

Mila smiled. “Of course it is, kid. I’m not here to pressure you. But if and when you do tell Lilia or anyone else, I’m here for you. Got it?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Good.” Mila ruffled Yuri’s hair.

“Oi—hey, get off of me, you hag!”

~~~~~

That day, Yuri felt free for the first time. Finally, the dreams, the pictures, Mila’s costume, Katya, Lilia… all of it pieced together and made some level of sense. Not _complete_ sense… but some sense. A bit of sense. At the very least, seeing everything from the perspective of being a girl forced by society to act like a boy made a lot more sense than seeing it from the perspective of being a boy.

“What’s gotten into you, Yurio?” Viktor asked. “You seem happy today.”

“Maybe I am,” Yuri replied before soaring into a quadruple toe loop… and falling directly on her butt. “Oh, motherfuck—ah, shit.” For Lilia Baranovskaya had just entered the rink, had heard Yuri’s cursing—and then cursing about having cursed—and did not look amused.

“Yuri Plisetsky, what have I told you about swearing,” she chastised.

 _Plisetskaya,_ Yuri mentally corrected.

“What was that?”

_I said that out loud, didn’t I. Fuck._

“Yuri!”

Yuri looked up, hoping that perhaps she could apologize for the cursing and nobody would notice what she had done.

Instead, she was met with a completely silent rink. Everyone was staring at her.

And from their faces, _everyone_ had heard _everything._

“Umm…” She looked over at Mila to see that her confidante was face-palming. “Really? I thought you were supposed to be supportive!”

“You are absolutely terrible at keeping things in your head,” said Mila. “Well, it’s definitely too late to turn back now.”

“I have absolutely no idea what’s going on,” said Viktor. “But whatever it is that you two are hiding, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. You’re really very dramatic, Yurio.”

“You can talk,” Yuri muttered in English, just as Yakov muttered the same in Russian, Yuuri muttered the same in Japanese, and Lilia muttered the same in Death Stare.

“Okay, okay, fair enough. But seriously, Yurio, just spit it out.”

Mila skated up to Yuri’s side and took her hand. “You can do this, kid.”

“This is so not how I wanted this to happen,” Yuri whispered.

“I know,” Mila whispered back. “But at least now you have to. I was worried you would just keep it in.”

Yuri nodded. She looked around at the other skaters. “Alright, so, um… okay, fuck it, I’m a girl.”

There were exactly nine seconds of silence—Yuri counted—and then Lilia broke the silence.

“Again with the foul language, Yura,” she said. “But okay, you’re a girl. You do realize what this means, yes?”

“Umm…” Yuri’s hands trembled. _Oh crap oh crap oh crap what’s she going to say?_

Lilia grinned, and then looked directly at Viktor. “It means that the world-famous Viktor Nikiforov’s world record was crushed by a fifteen year old girl in her senior debut!”

Viktor gasped. “What a tragedy,” he groaned. “What an embarrassment. My world record utterly destroyed by my _own little sister?_ I think I might just die of shame.”

“Don’t forget that your other one was destroyed by your fiancé,” Yuuri pointed out, poking Viktor’s side. “Which is worse?”

“I… I honestly don’t know,” Viktor admitted.

Yuri, meanwhile, was almost in tears, clutching tightly to Mila’s hand. “I told you,” Mila whispered.

“Told nothing,” Yuri whispered back. “Yakov hasn’t said anything yet.”

“What?” Yakov asked when he noticed Yuri staring at him. “What, do you think I give a shit? I don’t give a fuck what you are, but if you don’t have a better quad flip than these two idiots by Friday I’ll have your ass on a platter. Got it, Plisetskaya?”

“We’re not idiots!” Viktor protested.

“YES YOU FUCKING ARE,” Yuri shouted. “Um… sorry, Lilia.”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do with you,” Lilia sighed. “That being said, anyone who says that boys and girls can’t compete on the same ice should get a look at you, and then eat a gold platter of shit-filled pirozhki.” Everyone laughed.

“You’re—you’re really not upset?” Yuri let go of Mila’s hand and skated over to the wall, looking up at Lilia. “You don’t mind?”

Lilia shook her head. She almost seemed amused by the question. “Of course not,” she said. “Yura—is it alright if I continue calling you that, or is there something else—”

“—For now, it’s fine,” said Yuri. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead…”

“That’s fine,” said Lilia. “Back to the point. Yura, I’ve always wanted to be something like your mother, and any mother who isn’t ready to love their child no matter what doesn’t deserve children in the first place.”

She opened her mouth as though to say something, but then closed it.

“What?” Yuri asked.

“Nothing,” said Lilia. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re really okay with this?”

Lilia reached over the wall and wrapped her arms around Yuri. “Of course I am.” She began playing a little bit with Yuri’s hair, causing Yuri to literally _hum_ contentedly as she nuzzled up into Lilia’s hand ever so slightly. “Besides, now I finally have someone to give all my old costumes to.”

Yuri gasped and pulled away, staring up at Lilia with wide, starry eyes. “Really?”

“If you want them,” said Lilia.

“What if I want them?” Viktor whined.

“Shut up, Vitya; you’re not my daughter. Also, keep in mind that these costumes are small enough to fit Yura. They won’t fit you.”

Yuri glared up at her. “Rude.”

“Young lady, you cursed about ten times in the past fifteen minutes,” Lilia reminded her. Yuri pouted. “Oh, don’t even start.”

“Hey, you were rude to me too!” Viktor called. “What do you mean, I’m not your daughter? Lilia, I’m hurt! Come on, Yurio—wait, can I still call you that?”

“Yeah,” said Yuri. “But if you’re asking me to back you up, the answer is no. It’s not my fault that Lilia likes me better.”

“But—”

“—Let them have their thing,” Yuuri interrupted, gently putting Viktor’s arm down. “We can share my mother, okay?”

Yuri, meanwhile, was eagerly listening as Lilia described some of the costumes that she had lying around.

“I want _all_ of them,” she declared quietly. “Every single one. Except the itchy ones. I don’t like itchy things.”

“Some may be a little itchy,” Lilia admitted. “This was back in a time when people didn’t care much whether the costumes were comfortable. But I’m sure you’ll find one that you’ll like. And I have all sorts of old ribbons and clips and things for your hair.” Yuri threw her arms around Lilia’s neck, squealing in excitement.

“I’ve always wanted those,” Yuri whispered, bouncing up and down a bit.

“Okay, okay, come off the ice if you’re going to bounce around,” said Lilia. “Don’t break your ankle.”

“Can we go to your studio?” Yuri asked, still bouncing, and still on the ice. “Please? Can we go now?”

Lilia laughed. “Okay, sure.”

Yuri squealed again. Her hands began fluttering a bit by her sides. “That’s where they are, right? That’s where all the things are?”

“Some are still at my house,” said Lilia. “But a good number of them are at the studio. Certainly enough for you to look at in one day.”

“Don’t spend all day trying on costumes, Yura,” Yakov interrupted. “Lilia, she needs to train. At least make her dance in them.”

“That’s the thing about costumes, Yakov,” said Lilia. “They’re meant for dancing in.”

~~~~~

_6:00 PM • Mila Babicheva’s bedroom_

> **Me: tell me lilia took pictures of you in her old costumes**
> 
> **Yura: …**
> 
> **Yura: Sorry…**
> 
> **Yura: Can I tell you about them?**
> 
> **Me: you’d better :)**
> 
> **Yura: Okay okay so the first one was this dark blue one that was sort of long (too long to skate in) and was covered in sparkly silver flower things**
> 
> **Yura: And then there was one with one of those REALLY FLAT skirts like a table and it was blue and purple and had like old timey gold patterns and swirls**
> 
> **Yura: And then there was one from when Lilia was in Swan Lake that was basically a tutu version of my Agape costume and it was so pretty I loved it so much**

Mila smiled as more and more texts came in, describing costume after costume. Yuri went on for at least half an hour about everything she had tried on.

> **Me: this all sounds amazing, yura :) im so happy for you**
> 
> **Yuri: Oh… am I boring you?**
> 
> **Me: not at all! you’ll have to ask lilia if she has any costumes that’ll fit me**
> 
> **Yuri: Definitely**
> 
> **Yuri: Hey, Mila?**
> 
> **me: yeah?**
> 
> **Yuri: Thanks for everything**
> 
> **Me: awww yura you’re so sweet ** **❤️**** ** **❤️**** ** **❤️** ****
> 
> **Yuri: Don’t push it, hag**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! A quicker update for you this time. I wasn’t really planning on having Yura come out this way, but here we are. It sure was fun to write! Also, in case it wasn't obvious—in Russia, last names are gendered, so "Plisetsky" becomes "Plisetskaya."
> 
> Costume references: [first one](https://www.costumegallery.net/products/16517/midsummer-nights-dream/), [second one](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1SrwJNVXXXXcLaXXXq6xXFXXXP/-font-b-adult-b-font-font-b-ballerina-b-font-font-b-costumes-b-font.jpg), [third one](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/03/98/0b/03980bfdd51e1030e812aa642f9b70a9.jpg).
> 
> ~~~~~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	7. oops, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! A few things before we begin… 
> 
> First, a disclaimer: I am, for the most part, _fucking awful_ at writing filler, so this chapter is a little rushed. I promise that once this chapter is over, things will slow down. I really didn’t plan the beginning of this piece out at all, so the exposition is just kind of a mess. This is basically the last exposition chapter, and after this we’re gonna really get into the action and fun stuff.
> 
> Second, I would love it if someone were to do a podfic of this story! Please [find me on Tumblr](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com) if you’re interested!
> 
> Finally, HUGE THANKS to hyaciinths/willsolqce on Tumblr and TheMagicMicrobus/stammivicinoamore on Tumblr (and also themagicmicrobus on Tumblr, come to think of it) for beta'ing; this couldn't have happened without y'all!
> 
> On with the story! It is now about two weeks after we left off (in actual calendar time, that’s mid-August of 2017)...

Things were, to say the least, going fantastically for Yuri.

The quad flip was now well under her belt, and while Yakov wasn’t letting her try a quadruple Lutz yet, he certainly couldn’t stop her from practicing her _triple_ Lutz, and she was getting damn good at that one. The quad would come soon.

Meanwhile, her teammates were all showing constant support for the whole girl thing. Mila was the most natural about it, showing Yuri hair and makeup tutorials on her phone during breaks and working out a plan to get them both to the mall, and _fast._ Yakov was continuing with the theme of not really giving a damn, so long as Yuri kept up with her practice, which she did, but there was one thing that was different: his irritated “Quit fucking around, Plisetsky” had become a “Quit fucking around, Plisetskaya.” Lilia remained adamant that _just because she had a daughter who could inherit her costumes and accessories, didn’t mean that that daughter could be spoiled, nor did it mean that she, Lilia Baranovskaya, would spoil her,_ but nevertheless, there seemed to be a new present for Yuri every time she walked into Lilia’s studio—a ribbon, a hair clip, a necklace, and even the occasional full costume. Georgi didn't seem to care that much, but he respected Yuri’s pronouns, so she didn't really care much either. Yuuri was curious about the whole thing, not really knowing a lot about gender identity. He also had the idea to change “Yurio” into “Yuriko,” which he explained was a common name for girls in Japan and roughly translated to “perfect child.”

And then… there was Viktor.

“Yuriko, that was amazing! Did everyone see that? Look at what my amazing little sister did!!!”

“It was just a quadruple flip followed by a triple toe loop,” Yuri shrugged. “Just wanted to try it.”

“And it was amazing!” Viktor skated over and hugged Yuri tightly. “Tell me everyone saw that!!”

“It's not that big of a deal,” said Yuri, but she didn't shrug Viktor off.

Viktor hugged her even closer. “I have the best little sister in the world.”

~~~~

“So, have you told your grandfather yet?”

Yuri looked up from her sandwich to see that Mila was half standing over her. “No.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’ll be accepting?”

Yuri shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t necessarily think he won’t be, but… it’s scary.”

“I can only imagine,” said Mila. “Take your time, kid. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I do want him to know,” said Yuri. “It’s not like I want it to be a secret. But it’s just…”

Just then, Lilia walked into the breakroom. “I expect you to finish that sandwich, Yura.”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Yuri asked. “I’ve been finishing all my sandwiches.”

“I know, but it’s always worth reminding you,” said Lilia.

“Hey, Lilia?”

“Yes?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

~~~~

“You remember my coach, right? Lilia?”

“How could I forget?” Nikolai said mirthfully. “You never stop talking about her!”

“Grandpa!” Yuri turned red. “That’s not true—Lilia, stop laughing at me!”

“It’s a good thing,” said Nikolai. “I had always hoped you would find someone besides me to look up to.”

“I think that Yura looks up to everyone, Mr. Plisetsky,” Lilia said, grinning at Yuri. “Is the view nice from five feet tall?”

Yuri gave her a look that she knew well: _You have no idea how badly I want to curse at you._

“Well, come on in,” said Nikolai. “Might as well stay for dinner.”

Yuri and Lilia grinned at each other. “That sounds perfect.”

_Almost time…_

~~~~

“So, Lilia, has Yura been eating properly?”

They we're in the living room. Nikolai was in his big armchair with one of Yuri’s cats in his lap, while the other sat in between Lilia and Yuri on the couch.

“Oh, come on,” Yuri groaned. “Did you only invite Lilia here so you could gang up on me?”

Nikolai shrugged at Yuri before looking rather pointedly at Lilia. “Well?”

“Yes, thankfully,” said Lilia.

Yuri rolled her eyes inwardly. Even when it wasn’t teasing her, she absolutely hated small talk. She never quite knew how to participate, and besides, it was _boring._ She began tapping her foot on the floor, hoping for the topic of conversation to change, or for dinner to be ready.

She definitely _wasn’t_ tapping her foot out of anxiety over coming out. Nope. Not at all.

“Looks like something’s on your mind, Yura,” said Nikolai. “Care to share?”

“What makes you think that?” Yuri asked. “I could just be bored of your small talk. Or hungry. Or both.”

_Nice going. You covered yourself up by saying you were bored, but then you fucked it up by rambling. Well done, Plisetskaya._

“Well, if you change your mind, I'm all ears,” said Nikolai.

_Phew._

But one look at her grandfather and Lilia and she knew that they knew. She knew they could tell.

_Fucking shit. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I’m scared._

They were still small-talking, but Yuri could feel their eyes on her, just waiting for her to spill. She couldn't hear their conversation anymore—just a miasmic blend of thoughts and fear. For all she knew, they weren't speaking at all, or speaking of nothing.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there. It could have been seconds or it could have been hours but however long it was, it was agony. Yuri wanted her grandfather to know—but she had no idea if he would like it.

“Okay, fine!” she blurted out. “Fine. Fine. Fine, I have something.”

“You looked like you were about to explode there,” said Nikolai. “What's going on?”

Lilia laid her hand on top of Yuri’s. “You can do this,” she said quietly. Yuri was reminded of Mila two weeks ago.

_I can do this. I broke Viktor Nikiforov’s world record in my senior debut. I can do a quadruple flip and I'm only sixteen. If I can do that, I can do anything._

She took a deep breath. “So… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and things, and… I think that inside, like… in my heart? Or something? Something like that… that I feel more like a girl than like a boy. And it doesn’t really make sense to me either, but… I know, somehow.”

Nikolai nodded, slowly. “You knew about this, Lilia?”

“I did, as does Yakov, and the rest of Yura’s rinkmates.”

“I didn’t mean to tell them first,” Yuri said quickly. “It sort of happened accidentally…”

“What? Oh, I don’t mind that,” said Nikolai.

Yuri looked down at her hands. “Do… do you mind any of it?”

Nikolai shook his head. “I can’t say that I understand it, per se, because I’m an old man and nothing really makes sense anymore, but I certainly don’t mind it. If you’re a girl, you’re a girl.” He looked over at Lilia. “You’re going to have to take care of her, Lilia,” he said. “God knows I don’t know a single thing about girls. Women absolutely bewilder me.”

“Of course,” said Lilia. “I promise you she is in good hands.”

“You really don’t mind?” Yuri asked.

“No,” said Nikolai. “You are who you are—do you still want to be called Yura? I don’t know how these things work…”

“Yeah,” said Yuri. “I might change my mind later and pick a new name, but for now it’s fine.”

“Well then, you are who you are. You know what else you are?”

“What?” Yuri asked. She wasn’t sure if she was going to like this.

Nikolai grinned. “Too skinny. Come on, it’s dinner time.”

 

* * *

 

Now, Yuri really _was_ on top of the world. With her grandfather and rinkmates all on the same page, she was properly able to express herself at home and on the ice. Sure, she would have to hide it when the season began, but that was fine. She still could _feel_ like a girl while skating, without anyone knowing how deep that feeling ran.

And in the meantime, life was becoming a lot more fun. Viktor was still being ridiculous about showering her in praise and calling her his little sister, but now she was used to it, and between that and the more subtle, but equally powerful, encouragement from Lilia and her grandfather, Yuri felt a lot more confident.

It reflected in her skating, too. After coming out to her grandfather, her technique and performance both began to improve. Once again, Yuri was being reborn—into who she had always been.

“Yura, that was awesome!” Mila called as Yuri landed a triple Lutz followed by a triple loop. “Did you mean to copy Sara Crispino?”

“Oh, just say ‘my girlfriend’ already,” said Yuri. “But yes. I keep imagining that someday I’ll be able to compete against her.”

“Maybe someday,” said Mila. “And she’s not my girlfriend! Not yet, at least…”

“Just ask her out,” said Yuri. “I’d be shocked if she doesn’t like you back. She likes literally every single one of your Instagram photos, after all.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” said Mila. “Hey, I’ve got some more clothes for you to bring home. I think they’re less itchy than the last set.”

“Oooh, yay!”

~~~~

_That night…_

“What was that bag that you brought in today, Yura?”

“More clothes from Mila,” said Yuri.

“Don’t stay up too late trying them on,” said Nikolai. “I saw your light on at quite an ungodly hour a few nights ago. You’re lucky I didn’t tell Lilia.”

Yuri sighed. Apparently, when her grandfather had told Lilia to take care of her, he’d _meant it,_ because within two weeks, _everything_ had turned into “I’m going to tell Lilia.”

“Oh, you don’t mind it,” said Nikolai. “You know that you don’t.”

Unfortunately, that was true.

“I won’t stay up too late,” said Yuri. “I promise.”

The minute dinner was over, she rushed up to her room and began taking out the old clothes. As usual, she wanted to try on every single thing, but her grandfather was right; staying up late was a bad idea. They would all get their turn eventually.

However, there was one thing that she just had to try on—a soft, flowing crop top that was printed to look like space, like a galaxy, and a pair of black leggings. That, she just had to try.

The top was a little confusing to put on. One sleeve was on the shoulder, but the other had a strap and a part that came off of the shoulder. Yuri put her arm in the wrong place at least twice.

But at last, the shirt was on, the leggings were on, and Yuri looked at herself in the mirror.

_Oh._

The top flowed over her like it was meant to be there, and was so soft and light that even the weird strap thing didn't bug her. The leggings were far softer than anything she had ever worn before.

And it looked _so pretty._

She rushed out of her room to show her grandfather. “Grandpa, look what I got from Mila!”

Nikolai looked up from his book and smiled. “You look lovely,” he said. “It's a good look on you.”

“I'm going to take a picture and send it to Viktor,” Yuri decided.

She ran back up to her room, snapped a mirror selfie, and typed a message to Viktor.

**Yuri: Okay, fine, I guess you do have a pretty little sister :)**

The message sent, but Yuri was impatient. She wanted to check the message’s progress, so she switched over to the message app.

It wasn't until she tapped the top thread that she realized her mistake: Viktor had an iPhone, but the message she sent had come up green and not blue.

“Fucking shit, who did I send this to?” Yuri asked out loud. Honestly, she didn't want to know.

She looked at the top of the screen: **Vitaliya**

_Who the fuck—oh, right, Katya’s friend. I forgot that I got their numbers. Shit, I must have started typing Vitya and pressed the wrong name._

**Vitaliya: :O**

**Vitaliya: now isn't that something**

**Yuri: fuck, I meant to send that to someone else**

**Vitaliya: lucky mistake, then ;)**

**Yuri: Can you just delete it?**

**Vitaliya: i could**

**Vitaliya: but why?**

**Vitaliya: this would be the story of the age**

**Yuri: Oh god no please just delete it**

**Vitaliya: gotta say, you look pretty cute**

**Yuri: Vitaliya please just delete it**

**Vitaliya: i’ll think about it**

**Vitaliya: night night, yurachka :* ;)**

**Yuri: Please delete it I’m begging you**

**Yuri: Vitaliya**

**_[Message could not be delivered.]_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. Except no I’m not.
> 
>  
> 
> [Inspiration for Yuri's outfit](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com/post/158006688305/read-tigress-by-mvpyurio-to-have-your-soul)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers. Also, check out [the Tigress Instagram Feed](https://tigressinstagramfeed.tumblr.com) for Instagram concept art—and feel free to submit your own!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and see you soon! <3


	8. everything changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, an update! I am so so so so sorry for taking so long, y'all; I've been so distracted by other things, which include but are not limited to school, my original webcomic, and Voltron. But here we are, finally, and hopefully I'll be able to be a little better about updating in the future. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Special thanks to Rose for beta-reading this one! Find her [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights) and [here](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com/)!

By the next morning, the picture had gone viral.

Yuri wasn’t surprised. As soon as Vitaliya had blocked her, she knew it was over, knew that that picture wasn’t going to get deleted. But seeing the floods of social media alerts, seeing herself all over the internet at seven in the morning… it hurt.

Beethoven’s 5th—Lilia’s ringtone—blasted from her phone. So she knew. And knowing Lilia, she would keep calling until Yuri picked up.

She picked up the phone and answered with shaking hands. “Hello?”

There were a thousand things Lilia could say to her. She could be angry at her, or disappointed, or afraid—

_ “Who did this to you?” _

Well, that wasn’t something Yuri had expected.

_ “Yura, who did this?” _

Her voice was soft, sad.

_ “Yura…” _

“A girl I met—a friend of a friend—I meant to send it to Vitya but I sent it to the wrong person and I begged her to delete it but she didn’t—I’m so sorry,” Yuri whispered.

_ “Don’t be. Everyone makes mistakes like that, and this girl shouldn’t have spread that photo when you asked her not to. This isn’t your fault, Yura.” _

“Is Yakov mad?” Yuri asked nervously.

_ “If he is, I’ll set him straight. Don’t come to the rink today, Yura. The media gremlins know where it is; I’m sure they’ll be swarming. We’ll head them off.” _

“So what should I do?” Yuri asked.

_ “Stay home, take care of yourself. I’m sure your grandfather knows and understands. And send that photo to Vitya. He’ll love to see it.” _

Yuri nodded, and then remembered that Lilia couldn’t see her.

_ “Yura, I promise you’re going to be okay. I’ve got to go. I’m hoping to get to the rink before everyone else so I can get them to calm down. I’ll talk to you later, alright?” _

“Alright,” said Yuri. “Bye, Lilia.”

The line went dead. Yuri sighed. Today would be a long day…

Katerina Vasilieva was absolutely, positively, completely and utterly  _ furious. _

She had seen the social media alerts—of course she had.  _ Everyone _ had. But the minute she saw the screenshots themselves, she knew who was responsible, and she sure as  _ shit  _ didn’t like it.

“I take it you’ve been online today,” said her twin brother, Motya, as soon as she came down into the kitchen.

Somehow, the fact that he, as usual, always knew how she felt and why, calmed her. “How could you tell this time?”

“Your hair is up,” said Motya. “You mean business.”

“I know who did it, Motyenka,” she said quietly. “I could tell the minute I saw the picture. It was Vitaliya.”

Motya blinked a few times. “Wait—your Vitaliya? Tasha? Seriously? Actually… yeah, okay, that makes some sense. Damn. Wait, how did she even get those photos?”

“We all bumped into each other—Yuri and Vitaliya and Alina and me—and we all got Yuri’s number and I assume Yuri just sent the photo to Vitaliya by accident.” She sat down and put her head on the table. “I just… I can’t believe it. I mean, yeah, she’s Tasha, but this? I just…”

“Have you talked to her yet?” Motya asked.

“What good will it do? The picture is leaked. What’s done can’t be undone.”

“Don’t you start quoting Shakespeare on me,” said Motya. “And I never said anything about it doing any good. But you’re mad, and you need to express it, and besides, Vitaliya deserves it.”

Katya sighed. “Why are you always right? Don’t answer that.”

Motya grinned and ruffled her hair lightly. “Go and text her, Katenka. Give her a piece of your mind.”

**Me: What the actual fuck**

**Tasha: ?**

**Me: Are you kidding me, Vitaliya??!! What were you thinking?!**

**Tasha: ohhh… yuri plisetsky?**

**Me: YES, YURI PLISETSKY!!!**

**Tasha: great pictures, right?**

**Tasha: hot as hell**

**Me: A: that’s disgusting; Yura is 16 and you’re almost 19**

**How could you do something like that??!!**

**Tasha: oh don’t be so dramatic it’ll be fine**

**Me: DON’T YOU FUCKING CALL ME DRAMATIC, VITALIYA**

**Me: YURI’S LIFE COULD BE RUINED BECAUSE OF THIS**

**Tasha: oh please it’s just photos what’s the worst that can happen**

**Me: Did you even think about the caption in Yuri’s message, Vitaliya?!**

**Me: Yuri might never be able to skate again because of this!**

**Tasha: why are you calling me vitaliya??**

**Me: BECAUSE I’M MAD YOU FUCKING HAIRY WALNUT**

**Tasha: hairy walnut??**

**Me: Okay, y’know what? I’m done. I’m done!!!**

**Me: Don’t ever talk to me again. Ever.**

**Tasha: seriously?? katya we’re best friends and you want to stop being friends over this??**

**Tasha: you really are being dramatic**

**Me: Yuri and I were friends long before I even MET you! We were best friends as children and NOTHING will top that! NOTHING!**

**Tasha: wow… can’t believe you’d choose someone you knew when you were 6 over me**

**Tasha: you never were that great a friend in the first place**

“Oh, fuck her.”

Katya looked up to see that Motya was standing over her. “Why are you reading over my shoulder?”

“Because anyone who leaks photos like that won’t be good about being called out,” said Motya. “Now block her and put the phone down.”

Katya nodded. “I just… I can’t believe she’d do that. I mean, I can, but I also can’t.”

“Don't worry about it now, Katenka,” Motya said gently. “She's not worth your time. Maybe you can reconnect with Yuri after this, yeah?”

“If Yuri doesn't hate me after my best friend leaked those pictures,” she muttered.

“That's a bridge you can cross later. For now, it's time for you to eat.” He tugged lightly on her ponytail. “Mind if I take this out?”

Katya nodded. Hair down meant no more meaning business. She could mean business later.

“You two are up early for a Saturday morning.”

“Hi, Mom,” said Motya. He finished easing Katya’s hair out of its ponytail and started braiding it. “Yeah, we’re up. The internet exploded last night.”

“Was that your friend who everyone’s talking about, Katenka? The ice skater?” Katya nodded silently. “God, that must be so hard for the poor child. Do you have any idea how it happened?”

“Yeah,” Katya mumbled. “Yura sent the picture to someone by accident and they leaked it online.” She looked over at Motya, giving him a clear  _ Don’t say anything else  _ look.

If there was one thing that Mrs. Irina Vasilieva didn’t like, it was people who hurt children. Already her mental gears were turning with words she wanted to say to this horrible person who had had the absolute nerve to hurt a child like this.

“Well, if Yuri needs anything, we’re here,” said Irina. “You say that, alright Katenka?”

“And the same goes for you too,” said Motya. “You call Yuri; I’ll make you some tea.”

“What’s with you and fussing over me?” Katya asked.

“I’m your brother,” said Motya, tying the braid at the bottom. “It’s my job.”

~~~~

After a cup of tea and a healthy dose of encouragement from her parents and brother, Katya went up to her bedroom and called Yuri.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang.  _ Yura’s probably furious. _

_ “Hello?” _

Caught off guard, Katya said the first thing that came to mind: “Yura, I’m so sorry.”

_ “So you saw the picture.” _

“I did, and I know who did it, and I’m so sorry—I didn’t think she would do something like that!” She took a few shaky breaths. “I… I’m so sorry.”

There was quiet on the other line, for one second, two seconds, three, four…

_ “I don’t know what to do. I just want to skate so badly but Lilia told me not to come to the rink because the media gremlins will be there.” _

“Does your grandfather know?” Katya asked.

_ “Yeah, he knows. He’s… I don’t think he ever expected someone to be that…” _

“Cruel? Heartless? Idiotic?”

_ “Isn’t she your friend?” _

“Not anymore, she isn’t. I told her never to speak to me again.”

_ “But why?” _

“We were friends when we were children, Yura. Nothing can ever top that.”

_ “Oh…” _

Silence again.

_ “I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” _

“Well, you do,” said Katya. “And Yura, I’m always here for you. So is my family.”

_ “Thanks, Katya—wait, hang on—oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” _

“Yura? Yura, what is it?”

_ “Mila just texted me. The media gremlins—they’re on their way. They didn’t find me at the rink and now they’re going to come to my house—I don’t want to deal with them, I don’t want Grandpa to deal with them—” _

“Hey, hey, deep breaths,” Katya said gently. “You’re gonna be okay—”

_ “I don’t want a bunch of paparazzi at my house!” _

Katya thought for a few moments. “Want me to try and get you out of there?”

_ “Get me out of where?” _

“I can come pick you up and bring you to my house for awhile,” said Katya. “The media gremlins, did you call them? I love that. The media gremlins won’t think to look for you at my house—they don’t even know where it is.”

_ “Do you really think that you can get here before they do?” _

“I know I can. Text me your address and I’ll be right over.” With that, she hung up. “Alright,” she said to herself. “This’ll be fun.”

**Me: Come into my room. I have a mission for us.**

**Motyenka: On my way.**

She put the phone down and pulled the elastic from the bottom of her hair, shaking her head to undo Motya’s braid just as he appeared in her doorway. “What’s going on, Katenka?”

Katya pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Time to mean business again. “Rescue mission. The media gremlins tried to find Yura at the skating rink and failed, but now they’re going to Yura’s house. We’re going to get there first and get Yura out of there.”

Motya nodded. “I assume you’re going to work your magic?”

Katya smirked. “But of course, dear brother.”

It wasn’t really magic, of course. No, behind the makeup and occasional theatrics, Katerina Vasilieva was a master hacker. She had taught herself basic computer programming when she was eight, and since then had advanced to the point where she could get into almost anything undetected—including almost any Russian traffic light, which would come in handy today. All she needed to do was get a lock on the media gremlins, so she could slow their path to Yuri’s house while simultaneously giving herself and Motya green lights. She felt rather like the Japanese woman from that British television show, the one about aliens that she’d watched a few times. It was a good show, and she loved that woman in particular—she was one of the most resourceful and clever television characters Katya had ever seen—but quickly enough, the show devolved into sexism and fanservice, and so Katya dropped it.

(Anyway, back to the point.)

“Okay,” she whispered, typing commands into her laptop. “Let’s find ourselves… aha! Gotcha.”

A few minutes later—she had to delay just a bit so she could tell her parents what she was doing—she was in her and Motya’s car, spread out in the backseat with her laptop and tablet. Most of the work happened on her laptop; she only really needed the tablet to use as her hotspot—which in itself had been modified to run her own custom VPN.

Luckily, she didn’t have to multitask too much—now that Yuri’s address was in her computer, her program was already mapping out the fastest route using up-to-the-minute traffic data, and sending that route to her phone, which was in its cradle on Motya’s dashboard. All she had to do manually, was keep track of the paparazzi and slow their path.

“Let’s go,” she said, already setting up three different red lights.

They reached Yuri’s house in record time. Katya checked her laptop—the media demons would take at least another ten minutes to get there.

But now she couldn’t worry about that. Now she had to get Yuri out of the house. She ran up the steps two at a time and rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal a very exhausted looking Nikolai Plisetsky.

“Hello, Mr. Plisetsky,” she said. “I’m Katerina Vasilieva; Yura and I were friends as—”

“Call me Nikolai,” said Nikolai. “And yes, Yura told me you were coming.”

“Grandpa? Is that Katya?”

“Yes, Yura, she just showed up,” said Nikolai.

Yuri came to the door, still trembling slightly from shock. “Hey…”

“Hey, Yura,” said Katya. “Ready to go?”

“Um… can my grandpa come too?” Yuri asked.

“If he wants,” said Katya. “You’re welcome to come along, Nikolai.”

“Well, I might take you up on that, then,” said Nikolai. “Thank you, Katerina.”

“You can call me Katya,” she replied. “Now let’s go.”

“How did you get here so fast?” Yuri asked as they approached. Katya opened the passenger seat for Nikolai before gently tugging Yuri into the back seat with her.

“I have an excellent pilot,” Katya said offhandedly. “Yura, Nikolai, do either of you remember my brother, Matvey? We’re twins…”

“Nice to meet you,” said Nikolai, extending a hand to the teen next to him.

“Please, call me Motya,” Motya replied. “And as for being a pilot, I’d be nothing without my navigator.” He turned back and shot Katya a smile.

“Alright, navigator is saying that we should go,” said Katya. Motya nodded and started the engine, pulling out of the driveway. Once again, they were able to go pretty quickly, clearing almost all of the red lights before pulling back into Katya’s driveway.

Yuri was shaking by the time they got there. “It’s gonna be okay, Yura,” Katya said softly, rubbing her friend’s arm.

Beethoven’s 5th began ringing from Yuri’s pocket. “Oh, that’s Lilia,” said Yuri. “I should pick that up. Hello? Yeah, hi Lilia. I’m with a friend; she’s bringing me and Grandpa to her house to hide from the media gremlins… I’ll keep in touch, I promise… No, they never made it to my house. Katya somehow managed to beat them here… okay, we’re about to walk into Katya’s house. I’ll call you later, alright? Bye, Lilia.”

A woman who looked just like Katya was in the doorway when they arrived. Yuri vaguely recognized her as Katya’s mother. “Hello,” said Katya’s mother. “I don’t know if you remember me; it’s been so long, but I’m Irina. Come on in. Have you eaten breakfast?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Irina,” said Nikolai. “I’m Nikolai, Yura’s grandfather. And no—well, I have, but Yura hasn’t.”

“Well, let’s remedy that,” said Irina. She led the group back into the kitchen. “Does anyone have a problem with pancakes?”

They were in Katya’s room. Yuri was sitting on the bed cross-legged, staring around at all of Katya’s dance costumes, just like she had when they were little. Katya was at her desk, typing on her laptop at breakneck—or rather, break-finger—speed.

“Thanks again,” Yuri said quietly. “I don’t know how I would be able to handle it if the paparazzi showed up at my house.”

“Of course,” said Katya. She closed her laptop and sat down next to Yuri. “Like the costumes?” she asked. Yuri nodded. “Here, you’ll really like this one.”

Katya hopped off of the bed and went to her closet. “This one reminds me of the first one you ever tried on,” she said as she rustled through the collection. “Aha! Here we go.” She tugged the hanger from its place and held it in front of her.

Yuri’s eyes went wide as she took in the costume, navy blue dress dotted with larger and smaller sparkles made to look like stars. Katya was right; it  _ was _ like the one from all those years ago, but more mature, more grown-up.

She reached out a hand, brushing the fabric with the tips of her fingers. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “When did you dance in this?”

Katya beamed. “It was from my graduation gala,” she said. “I suppose you don’t know this… I just graduated from the Vaganova Academy.”

Yuri’s jaw dropped. “Katya, that’s incredible!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you  _ know  _ how hard it is to graduate from there? Lilia went there, and she told me that she  _ barely  _ survived it!”

“I know Lilia went there,” said Katya. “Lilia’s my  _ idol,  _ Yura. I had only just discovered her when we first became friends, but after we lost contact… she’s my version of Viktor Nikiforov, y’know? I was  _ determined _ to follow in her footsteps… and that may end up being literal.”

“You don’t mean…”

“I’m auditioning to join the Bolshoi Ballet in two months,” said Katya. “I was considering joining Mariinsky; they were all over me last year and were all but on their hands and knees for me at the gala, but when I was offered the audition I just couldn’t resist.”

“Katya, that’s so amazing,” said Yuri. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” said Katya. “And I’m glad we reconnected. Alina and Vitaliya… they were my friends that I saw during the summer, and I really was closer with them than I ever got with my classmates at Vaganova—we were  _ friends,  _ but not—but honestly? None of them… I just… I’d like us to have a fresh start, Yura. Can… can we do that?”

“But why?” Yuri asked. “You’re… what, eighteen?”

“Almost nineteen,” said Katya.

“Almost nineteen, and you’re about to audition for one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the  _ world,  _ and I’m just…”

“Just a kid who won the Grand Prix Final at age fifteen in their senior debut, and then took silver at the World Championships?” Katya rolled her eyes, but  _ gently.  _ “Yura, if anyone should be starstruck and impressed, it’s me. You’re  _ Yuri Plisetsky.  _ So let’s not. Let’s just be friends.”

“Oh, fuck it,” Yuri muttered under her breath, and then, a little louder, “Plisetskaya. Yuri Plisetskaya.”

Katya nodded. “Okay. You’re Yuri Plisetskaya. Can we be friends?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can be friends. Can I try on your costume?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, so that was chapter 8! I hope you guys enjoyed it; it was a ton of fun to write!!
> 
> So... a little more development of Katya! I had originally planned on having her as an exposition plot device and not mentioning her again, but I really can't resist a good OC so flesh her out I did! Besides... we all need a reminder that gender roles are a running gag and that if you wanna join a world renowned ballet company AND hack traffic lights to save your friends' butts, then by Beyoncé you can do it, gosh darnit! So you will see plenty more of Katya in future chapters. And I apologize in advance for the many, many times I will use her to make statements and shameless references. I may have already started doing so... ;)
> 
> Finally, [click here](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f3/f1/8a/f3f18a762271d946a1f3190ec17d4086.jpg) to see Katya's graduation costume!!
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> See you next time! <3


	9. watershed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh wow it's been awhile since I've updated. Hope y'all like it!

_ Two weeks later... _

Yuri had hoped, although she knew it was far-fetched, that the whole thing would blow over, that people would take it as a joke, as a dare, as a teenager playing around, and move on. But she knew that that was unlikely, and that what actually played out was far more reasonable.

Namely, that the media wouldn’t leave her alone.

Somehow, that one picture was all most gossip media would talk about. They were at the rink every single day, trying and trying to get inside, to the point where Yakov had to hire actual bodyguards to stand at every entrance.

They were still trying to get to Yuri’s house as well, so she continued staying with Katya. At first, it had felt awkward, being around her old friend and her family after all these years of distance, but the Vasilievs welcomed her in as though she had been family the whole time.

_ “And I wish her insight to battle love’s blindness, / Strength from the milk of human kindness, / A safe place for all the pieces that scatter / Learn to pretend there’s more than love that matters.” _

Yuri grinned as the last few chords rang out of Katya’s phone. “I like that song,” she said.

“It’s my favorite band,” said Katya. “They’re these two American women that were most popular in the eighties, and they just sing so beautifully—”

“—And they’re lesbians,” Motya finished. “Don’t let her fool you, Yura—that’s why she really likes them.”

“Okay, maybe,” Katya admitted.

It had become a regular practice for Katya, Motya, and Yuri to hang out together in Katya’s room. They didn’t really do anything per se, just listened to music and occasionally talked. When they did, it was lighthearted, easy, stories about Katya and Motya’s schools and about Yuri’s escapades on the ice, gentle mockery of Yuuri and Viktor… things that took Yuri’s mind off of the ongoing nonsense flung her way by the nosy masses.

About a week after rescuing Yuri, Katya and Motya explained how they did it, showing Yuri Katya’s program and how it worked, how Katya had kept the paparazzi away from Yuri’s doorstep and gotten herself there first. Katya had tried to pass it off as a team effort, that she couldn’t have done it without Motya, but that didn’t stop Yuri from being damn impressed.

“You’re too gay for your own good, Katenka,” Motya teased. “But I do mean that. I have no idea how well Bolshoi will take something like that—”

“—If it helps, Lilia apparently made her way around when she was dancing with them,” Yuri piped up. “Even went out with one of her co-dancers after she retired.”

“See, Motyenka? I’ll be fine.” Katya beamed at her twin, poking his side. “You’re lucky you don’t have any siblings, Yura. Motya is such a nag.”

“I may not have siblings, but I have something even worse,” said Yuri.

“What’s that?”

“Rinkmates.”

Katya laughed. “You’ve never told me about your rinkmates, Yura. I mean, Yuuri and Viktor obviously, but what about your other rinkmates?”

“Mila’s the one I’m closest to,” said Yuri. “She’s like an older sister to me. Then there’s Georgi, who’s just kind of ridiculous and overdramatic and annoys me a bit. There are a few others, but I don’t know them as well.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of friends,” Motya mused.

“Not really,” said Yuri. “Mila and Yuuri and Vitya… but they're more like annoying older siblings, y’know? And I'm not that close with the others. The only person who I see like a  _ friend _ the way I see you guys as friends, is Otabek. He's a skater from Kazakhstan. We met at the last Grand Prix… well apparently we met when I was little but I don't remember. But anyway, he's an actual friend.”

Katya nodded, and then her face lit up in a smile. “Well, you definitely have us as well. You're a really great friend, Yura.”

“Thanks, Katya,” said Yuri.

There was a slight pause, and then Katya spoke again. “Okay, I really need help with something. For my Bolshoi audition, I need one classical piece and one contemporary piece, and I'm so stuck. Usually I have a summer teacher who helps me when I'm not in school, but she's on maternity leave, so I'm on my own. I have to prepare for this audition by myself and like, I know I can do it, but it's gonna be hard. Could you guys at least help me pick pieces?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Motya. He scooted over to his sister’s side. “Have you narrowed it down at all yet?”

Katya shrugged. “Not really… I'm really bad at making choices like this—what is it, Yura? You look like you're focusing on something.”

“You said you don't have a teacher, right?” Yuri asked.

“Well, no, but I'll be—”

“Say no more,” Yuri interrupted. She pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts.

“What’re you doing?” Katya asked.

Yuri held up a finger, raising the phone to her ear.

A few moments later, she began talking. “Hey Lilia—yeah, I'm okay. I'm calling to ask if you'd do me a huge favor…”

Katya’s eyes widened as she clued in. “Yura,” she whispered.

“Well, it’s technically for Katya. I told you she graduated from Vaganova and is about to audition for the Bolshoi Ballet, right? Well, apparently she has to prepare for the audition without a teacher because her teacher is on maternity leave—” Yuri broke off, seemingly because Lilia had interrupted her.

A few seconds later, Yuri started speaking again. “Oh, Lilia, you're the best! Wait, what was that? Oh, okay, wow, alright, I'll ask her.” She turned to Katya. “Lilia says that she wants to start working with you as soon as possible and to come to her studio right now, if you can.”

Katya’s hands began to flutter lightly. “You've got to be kidding me!”

“Not kidding. Lilia just said that anyone who can graduate from Vaganova and immediately be offered an audition deserves every chance possible at getting in.”

“I—”

“I'm making an executive decision here,” Motya interjected. “Tell Lilia we’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll be there soon, Lilia,” said Yuri. “Thank you again.”

She hung up the phone and grinned at Katya. “Congratulations; you’ve got a teacher.”

~~~~

“Lilia, this is Katerina Vasilieva, and her twin brother Matvey.”

Katya was still in shock, even as Yuri introduced her to—

_ Lilia Baranovskaya. _

She had never felt so small.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Lilia. Katya tried to look up, tried to meet her eyes, but eye contact had never been easy and looking up at Lilia was even worse.

Eyes were knives. Lilia’s eyes were emerald daggers.

She looked away, trying to stare elsewhere.

“Nice to meet you too,” she mumbled.  _ Crap! I must look so undignified!  _ “I mean—” She forced herself to look up. “It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for being willing to teach me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” said Lilia, and she smiled, and even though Katya was still scared half to death, somehow it felt less… deathy.

“So,” said Lilia. “Do you have any sort of recording of your dancing?”

“Yes,” said Katya. “There might be some on my phone…”

“I have them,” said Motya. “I have a website that hosts every one of her public performances since she started at Vaganova.”

“That's perfect,” said Lilia. “You said your name was Matvey, yes?” Motya nodded. “Excellent. Show me these videos, and Katerina, go change and then warm up however you like. Changing room is down the stairs and to the left.”

“Yes ma'am,” said Katya, and she began walking towards the stairs.

“You too, Yura,” said Lilia. “Go change and warm up with your friend.”

Yuri pouted. “But Lilia—”

_ “—Go.” _

~~~~

“So, I looked at some of your videos,” Lilia said, walking over to Katya and Yuri. “Tell me, Katerina, do you like science?”

Katya’s eyes lit up. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Aside from dancing, science is my favorite thing! Mainly computer programming, but I like other science too…”

“I can tell,” said Lilia. “You dance like a scientist.”

“What does that mean?” Katya asked.

“Your technique is excellent,” said Lilia. “Almost flawless. Precise, disciplined—how old are you again?”

“Almost nineteen,” said Katya.

Lilia nodded. “Then your technique far exceeds your years. However—and Yura used to struggle with this on the ice—occasionally your dancing lacks feeling. It is beautiful, but lacking. We can work on that.”

“I’ve been told that a few times,” said Katya. “Emotions are weird. They make more sense when I’m dancing… but they’re still weird.”

“Okay, thank god, I’m not the only one,” Yuri interjected. “But I have to say, it’s significantly worse when you have to think about your gender all the time.”

“Yeah, speaking of, what are you gonna do about that?”

“Motya!” Katya glared at her twin. “Don’t—sorry, Yura—”

“—It’s fine,” said Yuri. “Um… I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, actually.”

“Well, start with the rumors,” said Katya. “I’ve been watching the internet, and people aren’t letting up.”

“Has anyone… gotten it right?” Yuri asked. “Y’know…”

“What, have people guessed that you’re trans? Yes,” said Katya. “It’s not the most common rumor, but people have definitely started guessing it—and it’s starting to catch on.”

Yuri sighed. A few days after Vitaliya released the picture, Viktor had told her point blank that the photos were telling, that it was only a matter of time before people would find her out.

_ “Perhaps if it were twenty years ago, you could slip under the radar,” _ he had said.  _ “Back then being transgender wasn’t something we were hearing about as much. It wasn’t common enough to be something people would guess. But in 2017, that’s all out the window.” _

“They’re never going to let up,” said Katya, seemingly reading Yuri’s thoughts. “They’re going to keep pushing and pushing.”

Yuri felt pushed at that very moment—pushed by the air around her as it seemed to close in. Everything felt thick, heavy, suffocating, and she tried to breathe but it became harder and harder. She didn’t know what to do.

“That’s enough for now,” Lilia said firmly. “Let’s get back to dancing.”

~~~~

_ Thought I knew my mind like the back of my hand, _ __  
_ The gold and the rainbow, but nothing panned out as I planned. _ __  
_ And they say only milk and honey's gonna make your soul satisfied! _ _  
_ __ Well, I better learn how to swim, cause the crossing is chilly and wide.

“What’s this song called?” Yuri asked.

They were in Katya’s room again, listening to that band Katya liked so much. Yuri was flopped across Katya’s bed, staring at that little silvery floral decoration that had been hanging on the ceiling for as long as she could remember.

Katya took a few seconds to respond, as she was distracted by listening, but eventually she turned her head up towards Yuri. “It’s called ‘Watershed.’ Isn’t it pretty?”

Yuri nodded, listening to the lyrics.

_ Twisted guardrail on the highway, broken glass on the cement,  _ __  
_ A ghost of someone's tragedy, how recklessly my time has been spent. _ __  
_ And they say that it's never too late, but you don't get any younger! _ _  
_ __ Well I better learn how to starve the emptiness and feed the hunger.

_ Up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road, _ __  
_ You can stand there and agonize till your agony's your heaviest load. _ __  
_ You'll never fly as the crow flies, get used to a country mile. _ _  
_ __ When you're learning to face the path at your pace, every choice is worth your while.

She wasn’t quite sure what a “watershed” was; it had to be some American phrase, but she did know what a fork in a road was. It meant choices, decisions.

_ Well, there's always retrospect (when you’re looking back) to light a clearer path _ __  
_ Every five years or so, I look back on my life and I have a good laugh. _ __  
_ You start at the top, go full circle round, catch a breeze, take a spill, _ _  
_ __ But ending up where I started again makes me wanna stand still.

Yuri realized that she was hearing herself.  _ She  _ was stuck at the crossroads, at this mysterious “watershed,” with the choice being what she would do with the whirling-dervish fallout from that goddamn picture. And perhaps, somehow, listening through to this song would help her somehow, help her make sense of this flying mess she was in.

So listen she did, closing her eyes as the second chorus played through and by some strange alchemy a picture began forming.

_ Stepping on a crack, breaking up and looking back _ __  
_ Every tree limb overhead just seems to sit and wait. _ _  
_ __ Until every step you take becomes a twist of fate.

This was it. This was that moment of truth, that twist of fate. She was stepping on cracks left and right and center and they would never, ever stop coming.

Her mind drifted back to that line way at the beginning about having to learn to swim through the river, or something like that.

_ Up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road, _ __  
_ You can stand there and agonize till your agony's your heaviest load. _ __  
_ You'll never fly as the crow flies, get used to a country mile. _ _  
_ __ When you're learning to face the path at your pace, every choice is worth your while.

_ Up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road, _ __  
_ You can stand there and agonize till your agony's your heaviest load. _ __  
_ You'll never fly as the crow flies, get used to a country mile. _ _  
_ __ When you're learning to face the path at your pace, every choice is worth your while.

When the song ended, she looked over to see that Katya was watching her with concern.

“Yura? Are you alright?”

Yuri nodded, although she wasn’t quite sure if that was true.

“I’m going to go for it,” said Yuri. “Yakov is going to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it y'all. The next chapter. It exists. And unfortunately we might have that same situation again where I don't update for awhile, seeing as I have moved to Wisconsin and am about to start having a full time job. But I will do my best.
> 
> Oh, by the way: both songs mentioned are by Indigo Girls. The first is called "Love Will Come To You" and the second is "Watershed."
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> See you next time! <3


	10. in front of a crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this took awhile. Sorry y'all—I've been super busy, and I also kinda lost interest in YOI for awhile—but I do want to continue this story!!

As predicted, Yakov was vehemently opposed to the idea of Yuri coming out. He didn't want Yuri to have to deal with even more media attention, more harassment, not to mention the concern of “ruining her career.”

Her friends were for the press conference. The Vasiliev twins were in favor of Yuri “living her truth,” as Katya called it, and proclaimed willingness to hide Yuri if the media remained relentless. Mila was of the opinion that the world was moving forward a bit more, and so even if Yuri did get shit for it, it wouldn't be so bad. Yuuri was a little more cautious, a little more concerned about the bad media rep, but he also knew that hiding would do Yuri no good. As for Viktor, his impulsivity spoke for him.

Unsurprisingly, the voice of reason ended up being Lilia’s.  _ “Before you do anything, research. Find out what will happen if you do this,”  _ she had said.  _ “Find out if you'll be able to keep skating, find out what the rules and limitations will be, and think about what questions you’ll be asked and how you'll answer them. And if you can't keep skating, figure out a plan for what you'll do with your life. If you can really find out what you're getting into, I'll support you completely.” _

So research she did. Lots of research she did. She spent a good amount of time online, just trying to figure out how this would all work. Katya and Motya helped as well, looking for resources and articles and whatever else they could find.

And then, at long last, they were ready. Yuri told Lilia what she had found, and Lilia approved. All Yuri needed was one more thing.

“My consent?” Nikolai asked. “What for?”

“In order to skate, I need to have hormone reassignment. I have a doctor willing to do it, but there are a bunch of hoops to jump through. Luckily, I've jumped through most seeing as the doctor happens to be Katya’s father, but I still need your consent.” She gave Nikolai a piece of paper. “You just need to sign.”

Nikolai sighed and took a long look at the person standing in front of him. In just a few months, everything had changed. He hated to admit it, but it wasn't easy.

But then he looked again, and he knew how happy Yuri was, and how much happier she would be if Nikolai said yes.

“Okay,” Nikolai said quietly. “Give me a pen.”

~~~~

_ September 21st, 2017 _

“Let’s cut to the chase. The rumors are true. I’m a trans girl.”

Silence fell, marred only by cameras clicking.

“I see no point in dancing around the truth. That’s what the ice is for.” Scattered laughter. “I will take a few questions, and then I’m going home.”

“What are your plans for the next skating season? Do you have any?”

“I won’t be skating this coming season.” Scattered gasps from the crowd. “Instead, I will be taking this year to focus on school, and begin hormone therapy. If the projection from my doctor is correct, I will be eligible to skate as a woman a year from now.”

“Do you have a new name yet?”

“Not yet. For now, please call me Yuri Plisetskaya.”

“If you’re not skating this season, and you’re skating as a woman next season, that means you will never get to skate against Viktor Nikiforov. How does that make you feel?”

“As much fun as it would have been to skate against Viktor, the fact of the matter is that I skate against him every day in training and repeatedly kick his ass. I have a feeling that he’ll have real trouble this coming season.”

“Who should he be worried about?”

“Everyone. Literally everyone. Otabek Altin. Phichit Chulanont. His fiancé. Mila Babicheva.” Laughter from the crowd. “But seriously, if you saw last season you know how hard fought it was. Katsuki won by a much larger margin at Worlds. Viktor is toast.”

“Who do you want your fans to cheer for this season, since you won’t be competing?”

“Cheer for Viktor. It’ll make him feel better when Otabek hands him his ass on a platter. One more question.”

“Are you afraid?”

Yuri stared at the reporter, a woman with short brown hair and green eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re taking a huge risk. Are you afraid?”

It was the kind of question that Yuri really didn’t want to answer. If she said that she wasn’t afraid at all, everyone would know she was lying, but if she said she was afraid, it would be a sign of weakness.

She felt as though she was naked in front of the crowd.

“Well?” the reporter asked.

“I’m not afraid enough to turn back.”

~~~~

“That was the most terrifying thing I have ever done.”

Yuri stared out the window, watching as cars drove by down below.

“Yeah, but you did great,” said Katya. “Listen, Yura, try not to think about it right now. It’ll get stuck in your head and you won’t be able to do anything else.”

“She’s right,” said Lilia. “You said at the conference you want to focus on school, and you still need to train. Thinking about your fear won’t help you do either of those things.”

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” Yuri turned away from the window. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, there’s one thing to take your mind off things,” said Katya. “While you being brave and amazing, I got an email from the Bolshoi Ballet. My audition is on Saturday.”

“That’s awesome!” said Yuri.

“Can you come to it?” Katya asked. “I know Lilia said she was gonna go—”

“Of course! I’d love to be there.”

“Well, there won’t be much to see unless you get to practicing,” said Lilia. “Come on, Katerina. I want to see both of your routines at least three times each before you go home tonight.”

Katya nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Yuri grinned as she watched Katya practiced. She had seen the routine half a million times, to the point that she could probably dance or even skate it herself, but watching Katya do it was something else. Somehow, the routine was just  _ made  _ for Katya and the way she moved.

“Feel it, Katerina,” Lilia called as Katya got up on pointe. “Remember, dance is equal parts art and science.”

“Well?” Katya asked when she finished her routine.

Lilia smiled. “I think you’re in.”

~~~~

There was no  _ way  _ that Lilia didn’t know  _ exactly _ what she was doing.

As soon as they walked into the studio where Katya would be auditioning, everyone’s jaws dropped. Hushed whispers of Lilia’s name echoed as they walked by. Someone pulled out a walkie-talkie. By the time they reached the auditorium, all of the judges knew.

“Ms. Baranovskaya,” one of them said as Lilia confidently took her place next to him. “It’s an honor.”

“The honor will be to have Katerina Vasilieva in your company,” Lilia replied, not looking at him. “I coached her myself.”

“Who’s this next to you?” the judge asked.

“She’s with me,” said Lilia. “This is my other student, Yuri Plisetskaya. She and Katerina are close friends.”

“We don’t usually let—”

“I said, she’s with me,” Lilia repeated. For the first time, she cast her eyes on the judge. He quieted instantly.

It was then that Katya stepped on stage. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Katerina Yesfir Vasilieva. I am nineteen years old.”

She spoke with confidence, but even though there were only three judges plus Lilia and Yuri, she felt as though she was naked in front of a crowd.

“Why are you here?” one of the other judges asked.

“I’m here because dancing is my passion,” Katya replied. “I began taking ballet classes when I was very young, and at first I thought it was just a hobby—but then, one day, I realized it was what I wanted for the rest of my life. When I got into Vaganova, it was like a dream come true.”

“Well, let’s see you dance. Begin with your classical piece.”

_ Damn, this is a tough piece,  _ Yuri thought to herself as Katya began dancing. Katya and Lilia had picked the piece together and choreographed it together, and Lilia’s influence was clear in how technical and difficult it was. If it weren’t for all of the practice sessions Yuri had watched, she would have been shocked at how Katya had pulled it off.

As she finished, she looked first at the judges, and then at Lilia and Yuri. Lilia shot her a smile.

The judges took notes for a few moments, and then looked up. “And your contemporary piece?”

“I’ll be dancing to ‘Galileo’ by Indigo Girls,” she said. She took her place in center stage.

_ Dance is equal parts art and science. Dance is equal parts art and science. Dance is equal parts art and science. _

_ Feel the music, Katya. _

This was her favorite song in the world. She loved the message of it and every single part of the music, all of the little pieces that came together. Every time she heard it, she couldn’t help but start to dance. She didn’t think; she just moved.

And then, suddenly, she had an idea. Lilia had told her her technique was perfect, and the judges had gotten a full dose of technique in her classical piece. The judges had gotten the science.

Now they could see art.

The first few notes began to play, and Katya began to dance.

“What is she doing?” Yuri whispered. “That’s not what you two choreographed.”

Indeed, it wasn’t. Katya wasn’t thinking about the routine. All she was thinking about was the music, and before long she wasn’t thinking at all. She was just moving to the music, bright-eyed, letting herself do whatever came to her. The technique came effortlessly.

In the bridge of the song, she switched back to the choreography seamlessly, going back to what she knew by heart, but after her improvisation she could feel everything so much better.

The last verse, she continued to do the choreography, but as she got closer and closer to the chorus, Lilia could tell she was just moments away from switching back.

And indeed, she leapt into the chorus, literally, and went right back to improvisation, jumping and twirling and flying and finishing center stage in a blinding flash of motion.

She threw her arms in the air, and when she looked back at the audience she was beaming.

“If they don’t take her, they’re fools,” said Yuri. “That performance would win her gold in the Grand Prix Final, if she were on the ice.”

“Thank you,” said the judge. “You’re dismissed. We will tell you whether we have accepted you in a week’s time.”

Katya nodded and stepped off of the stage.

“Come, Katya,” said Lilia. “Let’s get you home. You need rest.”

With that, and not another word to the other judges, she led Katya and Yuri out of the auditorium.

“You called me Katya,” Katya said quietly. “You never do that.”

Lilia wrapped an arm around each girl’s shoulders. “I’ve never been so proud of you.”

A week later, Katya got a letter in the mail saying that she had been accepted.

“I suppose that means I’m moving to Moscow now,” she said. “I’ll miss you, Yura.”

“I’ll miss you too,” said Yuri. “Keep in touch, okay?”

“I will,” said Katya. “Oh, and any of my costumes are yours if you want them.”

When Katya went to the airport, Yuri, Lilia, and Nikolai were with her parents and Motya to say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Katenka,” said Motya. “Don’t let those dancers wear you out. And don’t mess around with too many pretty girls.”

“Motyenka!” Katya elbowed him in the side. “I can’t help it if I do!”

“Bye, Katya,” said Yuri. “Good luck.”

Katya threw her arms around Yuri. “You too, Yuri Plisetskaya.”

And with that, she was walking away, long hair flowing behind her, and Yuri Plisetskaya realized that it was time for her life to begin as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a reference to "Breathe (2AM)" by Anna Nalick. Great song.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> See you next time!


	11. least complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, I actually updated semi-recently! I'm really getting back into this fic so I'll probably update more often. Maybe.
> 
> This one is gonna have a whole bunch of brotayuri! Emphasis on that bro part. I'll remind y'all, this is a Yurgle Free Zone™.

_October 1st, 2017_

“Okay, okay, I’m about to lose my mind.”

“Vitya,” Yakov warned. He glared as Viktor skated over to the side of the rink and promptly exited it.

“Yakov, I respect you, but if I train for another minute my head just might explode.” He looked over at Yuri. “Hey, Yuriko, want some ice cream?”

“What?” Yuri asked. “Why?”

Viktor looked over his shoulder and gave that stupid trademark _smirk._ “Is that a no?”

“Of course not,” Yuri grinned. “Let me get my coat.”

“Count me in!” Mila called. “Yuuri, come with us!”

“Sure!”

Yakov’s head looked like it was about to explode.

“Want some ice cream too, Yakov?” Viktor asked.

“NO, I WANT YOU TO COME BACK ON THE ICE AND—”

“I’ll pay,” Viktor offered.

The others grinned, knowing they’d won.

~~~~

“I don’t understand why you want to eat ice cream when it’s this cold out,” said Yakov.

“Aw, Yakov, don’t be a buzzkill,” said Viktor. “Let us have our fun.”

“You’re all mad.”

“Maybe.” Viktor grinned, slinging one arm around Yakov and the other around Yuri. “But life is short and ice cream is delicious. It’s not that complicated.”

“Hear, hear,” said Mila.

“Hey, let’s get one of those stupidly big sundaes and all share,” Yuri suggested. “Can we, Vitya? Can we? Please?”

Viktor beamed. “Anything for you.”

“She’s so much happier now,” Yuuri said quietly, not really to anyone. He watched amusedly as Yuri jumped up and down and flapped her hands, telling Viktor what she wanted on the sundae at a mile a minute.

Yakov came up next to him. “I know. It’s nice to see her in such good spirits.”

“And it shows on the ice,” said Yuuri. “When she returns next season, she’ll leave the audience breathless—and the judges, too.”

“Yuuri! Come have some ice cream with us!”

“Alright, I’m coming!”

They were halfway through their sundae (and still going strong) when Yuri’s phone rang. Beethoven’s 5th.

“Who’s that?” Viktor asked.

“Who do you think?” Yuri picked up the phone and answered it. “Hey, Lilia. What’s up?”

_“You should come back to the rink, Yura. Someone’s here to see you.”_

“Lilia, I’m eating ice cream with my friends.”

_“He says he’s your friend.”_

Yuri dropped her spoon. She didn’t have friends, except for her rinkmates and the Vasiliev twins… and one other person.

And she hadn’t talked to him in months, certainly not since her coming out, or even since the photos had been leaked.

Shit, she was in trouble.

“Is… is he mad at me?”

_“You’ll have to ask him yourself. Come back to the rink.”_

“What’s going on?” Mila asked.

“Otabek. He’s at our rink.”

“He flew all the way out from Kazakhstan to see you?” Mila asked incredulously. She whistled. “Damn. Either he’s really pissed, or he really—”

“—It’s not like that,” Yuri interrupted. “He’s nineteen—actually, he’s almost twenty.”

“I take that back,” said Mila. “Shit, really?”

“I have no idea why he’s here,” said Yuri. “I have to go back to the rink and find out.”

~~~~

“Otabek, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

They were standing side by side on the edge of the rink, staring out at nothing.

“I should have told you.”

“It’s fine.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”

“It’s fine.”

“Otabek—”

“Yuri.” Otabek looked over at Yuri. “Yuri, it’s fine. I’m not upset.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I was worried about you.”

“Oh.” Yuri blinked a few times. “Why?”

“Because we’re friends, and you’ve had a hell of a ride the past few months.”

“Yeah.” Yuri stared out at the ice. She hadn’t looked at Otabek the entire time.

“Yuri, what’s wrong?”

“We’re not going to skate against each other, ever again. I thought you’d be mad.”

“This is why I generally don’t become friends with other skaters,” said Otabek. “Look at Viktor and Chris. Their entire relationship is built around the ice, who’s skating where and when and whether they can compete against each other. I doubt they know anything about each other as people, and that’s a critical part of the relationship. Having a true friendship with a competitor is dangerous if you want to continue to win. So you hide, you close yourself off and have these superficial friendships with your competitors. It’s easy, but it’s all very complicated.”

“That’s not how it is with Yuuri and Phichit,” said Yuri. “Or with him and Viktor, or me and—”

“Rinkmates and former rinkmates are different,” Otabek explained. “When you train with someone, they become your family. I mean real competitors. Those relationships aren’t healthy, and I don’t like unhealthy relationships.”

“I—me neither; I don’t like them either.”

“Then let’s not have one,” said Otabek. “Being in separate divisions will make things less complicated. We can have a real friendship, that has nothing to do with ice.”

Yuri nodded. “Okay. I like that.”

“Besides, who cares if we can skate against each other?” Otabek nudged Yuri’s shoulder. “I can see you skate right here.”

“You want me—”

“Show me what you’ve got, Plisetskaya.”

“I—I don’t have anything choreographed—”

“Then don’t skate anything choreographed. Pick a song you like and just skate to it. Improvise.”

“Okay.” Yuri pulled out her phone and scrolled through for a song. She already knew exactly what she wanted to skate to. “Mila! Plug this in for me.”

“Sure, Yura.” Mila took the phone and ran up to where the speaker was set up.

Yuri turned back to Otabek. “Do me a favor, and film this.”

Otabek pulled out his phone. “Got it. What song did you pick?”

“You’ll see,” said Yuri. “Hold on, I need to change.”

A few minutes later, she emerged from the locker room, wearing a turquoise practice dress.

“Where’d you get that?” Otabek asked. “It’s a pretty color.”

“Either Viktor or Lilia. I forget.”

“Yuri, are you ready?” Mila asked over the intercom.

Yuri skated into the middle of the rink and gave Mila a thumbs up.

 _I sit two stories above the street_  
_It's awful quiet here since love fell asleep_  
_There's life down below me though_  
_The kids are walking home from school_

 _Some long ago when we were taught_  
_That for whatever kind of puzzle you got_  
_You just stick the right formula in_  
_A solution for every fool_

 _I remember the time when I came so close to you_  
_Sent me skipping my class and running from school_  
_And I bought you that ring 'cause I never was cool_

 _What makes me think I could start clean slated_  
_The hardest to learn was the least complicated_

 _Oh, I just sit up in the house and resist_  
_And not be seen until I cease to exist_  
_A kind of conscientious objection_  
_A kind of dodging the draft_

 _The boy and girl are holding hands on the street_  
_And I don't want to but I think you just wait_  
_It's more than just eye to eye_  
_Learn the things I could never apply_

 _I remember the time when I came so close with you_  
_I let everything go it seemed the only truth_  
_And I bought you that ring, it seemed the thing to do_

 _What makes me think I could start clean slated_  
_The hardest to learn was the least complicated_  
_So what makes me think I could start clean slated_  
_The hardest to learn was the least complicated_

 _Oh, I'm just a mirror of a mirror myself_  
_All the things that I do_  
_And the next time I fall I'm gonna have to recall_  
_It's isn't love it's only something new_

 _I sit two stories above the street_  
_It's awful quiet here since love fell asleep_  
_There's life down below me though_  
_The kids are walking home from school_

 _I remember the time when I came so close with you_  
_Sent me skipping my class and running from school_  
_And I bought you that ring 'cause I never was cool_

 _What makes me think I could start clean slated_  
_The hardest to learn was the least complicated_  
_So what makes me think I could start clean slated_  
_The hardest to learn was the least complicated_

 _The least complicated_  
_The least complicated_

Yuri waited a few moments after the end of the song before skating over to Otabek.

“That was amazing,” he said. “And I love the song.”

“Eh. A little sloppy. I underrotated a few times.”

“I don’t see Lilia anywhere here.”

“I do. She’s behind you. Hi, Lilia.”

“You should improvise more often,” said Lilia.

“I was sloppy.”

“So was Katya, and look where that got her.”

“Katya?” Otabek asked.

“Friend of mine. Just got into the Bolshoi Ballet.”

Otabek whistled.

“She improvised one of her audition pieces,” said Lilia. “She made a few mistakes, but she was so beautiful in her dancing that the judges accepted her.”

“That about sums up what Yuri did here,” said Otabek.

Yuri gave a small smile. “Thanks, Beka.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“I’m a little proud of me, too.”

“You should be.”

“Beka?”

“Yeah?”

“When you see me again, I’m going to have a new name.”

Otabek smiled. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "Least Complicated" by Indigo Girls.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> See you next time! <3


	12. gotta supercharge it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I actually updated quickly! And I'm actually going to post the next one pretty soon after this!

_ October 17th _

At first, Yuri wanted to skip the Grand Prix Series entirely. Because of the luck of these things, at least one of her rinkmates was competing in every single competition, meaning that if she wanted to tag along, she would have to go to  _ all _ of them, because the Rostelecom Cup was happening first and everyone agreed that having her fly back to Russia by herself during the series would be a nightmare given all of the press coverage. Yuri really didn’t want to do all of that traveling in one span—and besides, she had a feeling that media gremlins would be there and would try to get her to interview.

But then she got a text from Otabek, saying that he hadn’t been assigned to compete in the Rostelecom Cup, so if she wanted to see him before the Final she would have to come to either Japan or China, and then Katya said that she had successfully convinced the director of her company to let her and a few other dancers go to Grenoble during the Internationaux de France seeing as they couldn’t go to the Rostelecom Cup, but only if Lilia would be there, and Yuri would be damned if Lilia got to see Katya and she didn’t, and so in the end it just made sense for her to come along.

“That’s quite a long-winded explanation,” said Nikolai. “But you did say Lilia would be there, yes? For the whole time? All of the competitions?”

“She said she’d go to all of them.”

“Then of course you may go.”

“You really don’t want me going anywhere without Lilia, do you.” It wasn’t a question.

“She keeps you safe, Yura, and she cares about you,” Nikolai explained. “And you may not admit it, but you need someone to look out for you.”

“I don’t,” Yuri muttered.

“That’s a lie and you know it, young lady,” Nikolai said firmly.

“Fine.”

“What’s wrong, Yura? You seem off.”

“It’s my name,” Yuri replied. “I want to change it. I  _ need _ to change it to something else. I just don’t know what.”

“Do you need help?” Nikolai asked.

“No! Yes. Yes. Yes, I do. I need help.”

“Alright then,” said Nikolai. “Who do you want to help you?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri sighed. “I hate making decisions.”

Nikolai folded his hands on the table and leaned closer. “Well, do you know anything about what you want your new name to be?”

“I don’t want it to be anything like my current name,” Yuri said immediately. “Not at all. I want it to be completely different. And I want it to be pretty. Graceful. That sounds weird.”

“No it doesn’t,” said Nikolai. “Hmmm.”

Nikolai took a long look at his granddaughter, thinking about what she had said about her new name. He began running through names in his mind, but none of them seemed right.

And then he had an idea.

“Did you want your name to be unique, something that not many people have?”

_ “No,”  _ Yuri replied firmly. “I don’t want it to be unique. I want it to be common, normal, something that any girl might have for a name.”

“Then how about Mariya?” Nikolai asked.

“Mariya? As in Deva Mariya?”

“Well, yes,” said Nikolai. “But before that, Mariya was a far more interesting name.”

“It was?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Nikolai. “Nowadays, when we hear Mariya we only think of Deva Mariya. But Mariya has many meanings and a long history. It refers to the Egyptian for love, and the Latin for sea, but most importantly, it refers to the Hebrew for bitter and rebellious, which we both know you are.”

“That’s fair… All of that got lost when the name became associated with Deva Mariya?”

“I would argue that it didn’t get lost at all,” said Nikolai. “Sure, we don’t talk about those qualities when we talk about the name Mariya, but when we talk about her son? I would say that much of what defines the name Mariya is crucial to why  Iisus Khristos is so important. Do you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think that Mariya is the perfect name for you. It means that you are pure and virtuous and loving and everything a woman should be… but at the same time, an utter piece of shit.”

“Grandpa!”

Nikolai laughed. “So? What do you think?”

“Mariya Plisetskaya,” she tried. She wrote it with her finger on the table, first in Cyrillic and then in Latin letters, mumbling it to herself under her breath. “It’s missing something… it’s missing something…”

Just then, her phone dinged, and as she read and replied, it hit her.

**[[Lilia ❤️]]**

Be at the rink at 08:30 exactly.   
We can’t miss our flight to Moscow.

Alright.

 

“Lilia,” she said quietly. She closed her eyes and began to write on the table with her finger again,  _ Mariya Lilia Plisetskaya,  _ and then again, alternating between Cyrillic and Latin, still whispering it to herself.

Nikolai smiled, knowing that his granddaughter had had her breakthrough. “Hello,” he said. He extended his right hand. “My name is Nikolai Plisetsky. What’s yours?”

“My name is Mariya Lilia Plisetskaya. I’m your granddaughter.”

Nikolai smirked. “In that case, I’m calling you Mashenka, whether you like it or not.”

Mariya scowled, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

~~~~

“Yes!” Viktor cheered. “Oh, I love it. It’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

“Thanks—!” Mariya shrieked as Viktor grabbed her hands and spun her around the ice. “Vitya!”

“What are you two doing?” Yakov demanded.

Viktor looked over at Mariya for permission, waiting for her nod before making a proud announcement. “My little sister has a new name!”

“Ooooh, what is it?” Mila asked.

“My name is Mariya Lilia Plisetskaya,” Mariya said proudly.

“Nice to meet you, Mariya,” said Yuuri.

“Yes, that’s all fine, but we have to go,” said Yakov. “Lilia, Mila, and Georgi are all outside waiting.”

“Yes, Yakov,” they all said together.

“Oh, and Mariya?”

“Yes?”

“Nice name.”

Mariya grinned.

~~~~

Lilia nearly cried when Mariya introduced herself.

“You named yourself after me?” she asked.

“It felt right,” Mariya shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“To me, it is,” said Lilia. “In all of these years, I never expected to be so close to someone.”

“Really?”

“I’ve told you you’re like a daughter to me, Mariya,” said Lilia. “I never expected to have someone I would consider my own child.”

“Oh.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you going to tell other people?” Mila asked. “No pressure, just…”

“Yes, but not until after the Final,” said Mariya. “It’s just too much, to try and do all of that during a competition. After it’s over, I’ll announce my new name.”

“You should do it on Instagram,” Viktor suggested. “Have someone take a cute picture of you, and announce your new name there.”

“That’s so extra,” said Mariya. “But… I kinda like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our girl has a name!!
> 
> ~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.


	13. grand prix 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd be speedy speedy!!

_ Rostelecom Cup, Moscow • October 20–22 _

Moscow was, by far, the worst in terms of media attention, which made sense. Everyone and their mother wanted to interview Mariya, asking about her plans for next season and whether she regretted taking this season off and who to cheer for.

“Look, just go back and look up my press conference from last month,” she said. “I’ve already said all you need to know. And besides, shouldn’t you be focusing on the fact that this is Viktor Nikiforov’s first competition after a season off?”

In the end, Viktor placed second, losing to JJ. Mariya nearly screamed.

~~~~

_ Skate Canada, Regina • October 27–29 _

“So, Yuuri, Yuri Plisetsky is no longer in the competition, but Viktor Nikiforov is. Do you think you have a chance at winning the Grand Prix Final?”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the reporter. “Excuse me? Who was that you said at first?”

“Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Incorrect. Her name is Yuri Plisetskaya. If you’re going to use  _ her _ as some sort of obstacle to my success and ignore the fact that  _ she’s _ like a little  _ sister _ to me, at least get  _ her _ name right.”

With that, he walked away.

Three days later, the same reporter approached him, asking if his newly-earned gold medal gave him a clearer sense as to whether he would win the Final.

“Good grief,” said Yuuri. “It’s the second competition. I have no idea what will happen.”

~~~~

_ Cup of China, Beijing • November 3–5 _

It was in Beijing, in a hotel room the night before the Free Skate, that Mariya told Otabek her new name.

“Well?” she asked, moments after telling him. “Do you like it?”

“Who cares if I like it?” Otabek asked. “Do you like it?” Mariya nodded, eyes sparkling. “Then that’s all that matters. But yes, I think it’s a lovely name.” He got up from the bed and stretched. “I should go back to my room and get some sleep before skating tomorrow.”

“I should probably sleep too,” said Mariya. “Hey, Beka?”

“Yeah?”

Mariya gave him the thumbs-up.  _ “Davai.” _

Otabek leaned over and ruffled her hair. “I guess some things never change.”

He won silver, but what was far more interesting was when Mila won silver by nailing a flawless triple-Lutz, triple-loop combination, causing one Sara Crispino to pull a Viktor Nikiforov and kiss her on the ice.

“Copycat,” Yuuri muttered.

~~~~

_ NHK Trophy, Osaka • November 10–12 _

Mila and Sara’s relationship became the talk of the town almost overnight. Mariya rather enjoyed being  _ left the hell alone  _ for once, but she couldn’t help but feel bad for her friends.

“For Christ’s sake,” Sara muttered. She was in Osaga to support Mila and her brother and had insisted that Mila and Mariya have “girls’ night” with her, which surprisingly wasn’t as third-wheely as Mariya had expected. “We’re figure skaters, not Kardashians.”

“Then let’s show them,” said Mila. “Tomorrow, I’m going to kick ass and take gold, and then you’ll do the same at the Internationaux de France, and then we’re going to go to the Grand Prix Final together, we’re going to show them the figure skaters we are, and  _ then _ see what they say about us. Sound good to you?”

Sara took Mila’s hand and kissed it. “Sounds perfect.”

~~~~

_ Internationaux de France, Grenoble • November 17-19 _

Katya giggled to herself as she walked down the hall. She’d texted Lilia about an hour ago, and Lilia told her that the skating team was still entirely clueless that she and her dancer friends were in the same hotel, as well as the room number she needed to look for, 461.

_ 455, 457, 459—yes!  _ Grinning, she rang the doorbell of room 461.

“It’s open,” a familiar voice called from the other side.

Katya pushed the door open. “Surprise!”

“Katya?!” Yuri leapt up from her bed.

“Yura!” Katya ran forward and hugged Yuri tightly. Yuri shook her head. “What? What’s wrong?”

Yuri kicked the door closed. “I have a new name now,” she whispered. “My name is Mariya. Mariya Lilia Plisetskaya.”

“That’s amazing!” Katya exclaimed. “Congratulations,—”

“Ssssh,” Mariya hissed. “I haven’t made it public yet. Not until after the Final.”

“Congratulations, Mariya,” Katya finished, quietly. “Wait, do your teammates know?”

“My teammates, my coaches, my grandpa, Otabek, and now you,” Mariya replied. “And I suppose you can tell your family, if you want. After the Final, I’m going to tell everyone.”

“Mariya Plisetskaya,” Katya said slowly, testing the name out.

“Mariya  _ Lilia _ Plisetskaya,” Mariya corrected.

“I love it.”

~~~~

_ Skate America, Lake Placid • November 24–26 _

“This feels like déjà vu,” said Viktor. “Remember, Yuuri? You took silver in your first event and were placed in the last event last year, and you barely scraped by to the Final.”

“Don’t remind me,” Yuuri laughed. After a stunning, gold-medal winning performance at the Internationaux de France, he had secured his spot in the Final already and was now in first place. Mila had made it to the Final after taking first at the NHK Trophy, but unfortunately Georgi did not have the same luck, breaking his ankle the same day Mila advanced victorious. Now Viktor had to battle for his spot in Lake Placid, and it really was a battle. His silver medal at the Rostelecom Cup had screwed him over, allowing Yuuri, Otabek, and Seung-gil Lee to claim their spots in the Grand Prix Final. Unless Viktor placed silver at Skate America, he had little to no chance of making the Final.

“Some comeback this is,” Viktor sighed.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Mariya. “I don’t give half a crap whether you make it to the Final. But if you lose to stupid JJ again, I will kick your ass.”

It ended up being a young Canadian upstart named Alexandre Gagné who changed everything.

He was seventeen years old, and had spent years living in JJ’s shadow, training under the same coach before  _ finally _ making it to his first Grand Prix series. After placing fourth in the Cup of China, he knew that making it to the Final was all but impossible, but he refused to give up. He was going to skate in Lake Placid, and he was going to beat JJ, so help him God.

“I just. I can’t let him beat me again. I can’t.”

He was staring up at the leaderboard after the short program. Mariya was standing next to him.

“I know the feeling,” said Mariya. “I lost to him twice last year, at Skate Canada and then at the Rostelecom Cup.”

“Yeah, but you’re Yuri Plisetsky—sorry, Plisetskaya,” said Alex. “You won the Final in your senior debut and broke a gold record.”

“You spent all your time in JJ’s shadow, right?” Mariya asked. Alex nodded. “Try living in the shadow of Viktor Nikiforov.”

Alex laughed. “Fair enough. Christ, that’s gotta suck.”

“It really did. Being out of his shadow last season was the best thing ever to happen to me.” Mariya smiled wistfully. “Listen, Alex. I’m sure you’re gonna do great. And…” She leaned in and whispered in his ear,  _ “I hope you kick JJ’s ass from here to the moon.” _

They shared a smile.

The next day, Alex waved at Mariya from the podium, gold medal glinting against the light blue top of his costume.

“Well done, Alex,” said JJ as Alex skated away, followed by Viktor, who had placed second, and Phichit, who had placed third. “That was good, for your second Grand Prix competition.”

Alex whirled around and smirked at JJ. “Says the man who fell on a quadruple toe loop, placed fifth, and won’t be seeing the Final.”

~~~~

_ Grand Prix Final, Nagoya • December 7–10 _

“It’s nice how different this lineup is from last year’s,” Mariya mused.

“I think it’s great,” said Yuuko. As a seventh birthday present for the triplets, the Nishigori family got tickets to the Grand Prix Final, and Yuuko had insisted that Mariya hang out with them for awhile, just to escape the nonsense.

“It was high time someone knocked stupid JJ off of his high horse,” Mariya grinned. “Alexandre Gagné just might be my new hero.”

“What, that’s it?” Yuuko asked incredulously. “You’re not proud of Yuuri or Mila or Viktor? They’re all in the Final.”

“Of course I’m proud of them,” said Mariya. “But… I’m also really glad that JJ isn’t in the Final.”

Yuuko rolled her eyes. “Of course you are. So, you’re hoping Alex will win?”

“I’m not  _ that  _ spiteful,” said Mariya.

“You’re not?”

Mariya glared at Yuuko. “Of course I want my rinkmates to do well.”

“Well, I just hope Yuuri doesn’t collapse. We all know—”

“—that he doesn’t like being the one to beat,” Mariya finished.

~~~~

Yuuri did not, in fact, collapse. After placing third in the short program, he blew the audience and the judges away with his free skate and took gold. Meanwhile, Viktor just managed to take silver, beating Phichit by two points.

“You’re losing your touch,” Mariya teased as they exited the ice. Viktor glared at her.

Yuuri, meanwhile, had a different reaction. “That’s  _ two  _ gold medals, Viktor,” he said. “Last I checked, you owe me a wedding.”

“Wedding?” Viktor asked. “I was thinking we’d elope.”

“Come to Thailand,” Phichit suggested. “God knows that if you tried to get married in Japan or in Russia, you’d be hounded by crowds.”

Viktor grinned, slinging an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “Sounds perfect.”

Mariya smiled to herself.  _ And then I’m gonna tell everyone. _

~~~~ 

[ ](https://www.instagram.com/mariyaplisetskaya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we have it! The world knows now!
> 
> I have a few announcements:
> 
> 1\. That instagram post wasn't faked! There is an actual real mariyaplisetskaya Instagram account now, that you can actually follow on Instagram. I strongly encourage anyone who wants to draw Mariya, to send me those drawings (mvpyurio on Tumblr) so I can put them on her Instagram! The post will ALWAYS have a credit at the bottom!  
> 2\. On the subject: the picture in this Instagram post is courtesy of the amazing [Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights) ([witchlightsands](http://witchlightsands.tumblr.com) on tumblr).  
> 3\. If you go to my Tumblr, you'll see a drawing of Alexandre Gagné's FS costume. You'll notice that it reveals the song he skated to... but it does NOT have any actual person features. That's because I want Y'ALL to design Alex for me! Please send Alex designs to me on Tumblr (mvpyurio), and I will pick my favorite to be his official design! ((Hint: while I'm not REQUIRING that Alex be a POC, it's highly likely that I'll pick an Alex of Color over an Alex of Very Little Color.))
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> See you next time! <3


	14. welcome to the madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually steals the phrase "welcome to the madness" and deyurglefies it*
> 
> In other news, I just learned a fun fact: Mariya and Katerina happen to be the names of _Vladimir Putin's daughters_. I swear, it was an accident. I'll probably be laughing about this for a week.

_January 4th_

Mariya never thought that getting a new name would create such hoopla. As soon as her press conference went live, the media went as wild as they had when her photos were leaked and she came out. Except this time, the nonsense was over the origins of her name. Apparently, the name “Mariya” was a big deal if you were a trans figure skater. Who’da thunk it.

“Okay, everyone pay up,” said Mariya. “Katya just texted me. We’ve hit 80%.”

Katya, ever aware of media circuses and yearning to put her computer skills to some use, had written a program to track the top 1000 media outlets by viewership and record each one that jumped on the Mariya bandwagon. Mariya and her rinkmates thought the idea was hilarious and turned it into a game, betting on how long it would take for 80% of the outlets to join the parade.

Viktor was sure it would take at least a month, but Mariya bet money on two weeks—and here they were, exactly eleven days later.

“Alright, you win,” said Mila. Mariya opened her hand expectantly and smirked as everyone on her team gave her money.

Just then, Mariya’s phone dinged again.

**[[Katya]]**

Masha, I don’t mean to alarm you  
But there’s a new trending hashtag

What is it?

#WhyMariya.

“Someone just made #WhyMariya a thing,” said Mariya.

“I swear to God,” said Yuuri. He pulled out his phone and opened up Instagram.

**[[phichit+chu, sukeota3sisters]]**

Okay, who’s responsible for #whymariya

**phichit+chu** ****  
I had nothing to do with it!  
C’mon Yuuri, that’s not the kind of thing I would do

Okay, yeah...

**sukeota3sisters** ****  
we’re not that bad!!!!! -Lz  
Yeah, we’d never do that to Mariya -A  
Don’t worry, Yuuri! We’ll figure it out -Lo

“Phichit and the triplets say they have nothing to do with it,” said Yuuri.

“They don’t,” said Mariya. “Katya just texted me again. She traced the hashtag and I’m about to throw my phone at the wall.”

“Who did it?”

“JJ.”

“That asshole,” Viktor muttered. “Now what?”

Mila grinned. “Now we take the media for a ride. Let’s invite them to the rink for an interview.”

~~~~

_January 6th_

“So, Mr. Feltsman, Ms. Baranovskaya, as her coaches, you know Mariya Plisetskaya quite well. I have to ask, why Mariya?”

“What?” Yakov asked.

“How did she come about her name?

“Oh! I picked it for her,” said Yakov. “It came to me in a dream.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’d tell you the rest, but presumably there are children watching.”

“Yakov!” Lilia chastised.

The reporter opened her mouth, and closed it again.

~~~~

_January 12th_

At the European Championship, they tried to go for Yuuri and Viktor.

“Mr. Katsuki, Mr. Nikiforov, why Mariya?”

“My mother suggested it, after my sister Mari,” said Yuuri. “She really enjoyed confusing a willful, stubborn Russian child prodigy with one of her comparatively boring children.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Viktor snorted. “I have a question for you, though.”

“Yes?”

“Why do you care?”

~~~~

_January 19th_

Unwilling to give up, another crew caught them at the Four Continents Championship. Or rather, they caught Otabek.

“Thanks, Jen. We all know that the Four Continents is about the skating, but when I saw Otabek Altin, I just couldn’t resist catching him for an interview. See, Otabek here is a good friend of Mariya Plisetskaya. So, Otabek, why Mariya?”

“That’s your question? Seriously?” Otabek asked.

“I’m dying to know.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” said Otabek. “Fine, then. Mariya is the name of my motorbike, which I was riding one day when a bunch of nosy, transphobic assholes began hounding me about Plisetskaya. I told them to go fuck themselves. The next day, I got a text from Mariya asking what her new name should be, so I suggested Mariya.”

“A motorbike, eh?” asked the reporter. “Huh.”

~~~~

Despite its curse-laden and obviously satirical nature, the motorbike story stuck for quite some time, but then, in late January, someone caught a picture of Otabek’s motorbike, with the name Aisha spray-painted on it. The internet exploded, and within days there was another camera crew at the rink, looking for Mila.

“Originally I had suggested ‘Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way,’ but everyone else said it was too long,” Mila explained.

The reporter didn’t understand the reference, but the internet did. Mila’s Tumblr gained five hundred followers overnight. She began receiving regular messages calling her an icon.

“Okay, they’re going to pick on me next,” said Georgi. “I have an idea.”

~~~~

_February 3rd_

“So, Georgi, I know all of your rinkmates have heard this question, but I don’t think anyone has asked you. Do you have any idea why Plisetskaya chose the name Mariya?”

“Actually, I do,” said Georgi.

“Oh?”

“I came up with the name,” said Georgi. “I took inspiration from an American song that reminded me of the love of my life. I forget the title, but it goes a little something like this.” He cleared his throat and began to sing.

_We're no strangers to love_ _  
_ _You know the rules and so do I_

“Oh my god,” Mila whispered, her ear pressed to the door. “Georgi is a better troll than all the rest of us combined.”

_A full commitment's what I'm thinking of_ _  
_ _You wouldn't get this from any other guy_

“What’s he doing?” Mariya asked. Mila beckoned Mariya, Yuuri, and Viktor over.

“You all know this song?” Mila asked. The others nodded. “Good. On my signal, we help him out. This’ll be fantastic.”

_I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling_ _  
_ _Gotta make you understand—_

“Hold on,” said the interviewer. “What does this have to do with Mariya?”

Georgi smirked. “Absolutely nothing.”

Just then, the doors burst open, and Viktor, Yuuri, Mariya, and Mila all burst in, singing off-key and at the top of their lungs.

_“NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN, NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU! NEVER GONNA MAKE YOU CRY, NEVER GONNA SAY GOODBYE, NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE AND HURT YOU!”_

The interviewer stared at them in disbelief, and continued staring for a solid two minutes after they forgot the rest of the song and ran out.

~~~~

_February 7th_

It was at that point that the crew gave up on skaters and decided to go directly to Mariya’s house, to try and get an answer from Nikolai.

“Mr. Plisetsky, tell me, why Mariya? Is it a family name? Where did she get the idea?”

Nikolai grinned mischievously at the reporter. “It is, as a matter of fact. Mariya was the name of my great-grandmother’s cousin.”

“So your granddaughter wouldn’t have known her. Was she famous for anything? Did she have any sort of impact on Mariya’s life?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call her famous. More like infamous.”

“How so?”

“Allegedly, she had intimate relations with a pig on her farm.”

“A pig?”

“A sow, to be specific.”

“Mariya the first committed bestiality.”

“Didn’t you hear me? She committed _lesbian_ bestiality.”

~~~~

Nikolai’s response set _everyone_ off. Wild theories began popping up everywhere. It got so out of hand that Mariya, trying to distract herself from the fact that she wasn’t able to compete in the Olympics, set up a blog called “whymariyaoftheday” and began to tabulate all of her favorite theories, including of course everything that had been said in an interview.

But then some yahoo had to submit a theory that was downright disgusting, and Mariya nearly puked. She turned the blog over to Matvey, who coded a bot to come up with its own random, but appropriate, theories, and the blog carried on. Someone, for some reason, had gotten everyone to think that somewhere hidden on the blog was the real answer, and the speculation turned to which of the blog posts was real. Even a month and a half later, it all continued.

And then the World Championships came, and with the Worlds came Phichit to join the fray, with an Instagram picture of one of his hamsters.

**phichit+chu:** Everyone keeps asking **#whymariya**. Well, I know the real reason. After the GPF, **@v-nikiforov** , **@kyuuriskates** , and **@mariyaplisetskaya** came to visit me in Thailand. Mariya hadn’t chosen her name yet, so I put all of my female hamsters in a hat for her to pick blindfolded. The one she chose is named Mariya. THE TRUTH HAS BEEN REVEALED!

~~~~

By this point, most of the outlets either realized they were being trolled and gave up, or they realized that the figure skating season was over so nobody cared. A few fringe sites were still trying to figure out the secret to Mariya’s name, combing through the blog posts for anything that seemed remotely reasonable, but besides that, nothing was going on.

“That was the most ridiculous figure skating season I’ve ever not skated in,” said Mariya. “I can’t believe that people cared more about my name than about actual skating—or the fact that Viktor didn’t make the podium at the Olympics this year.”

“Eh, they cared about that,” said Viktor.

“For all of two seconds,” said Yuuri. “Hey, at least we know they love you, Mariya.”

“Love isn’t the word I’d choose,” said Mariya.

“Well, what are you going to do from now until the next season starts?” Mila asked.

“Actually, people keep telling me to start a YouTube channel, for me to talk about things and skate on camera and stuff. Especially now that I’ve taken so many photos on Instagram of my transition and my new skating outfits and things. So I think I’m gonna do it.”

“Sounds great,” said Viktor. “I still wanted to get you another birthday present—”

“—Vitya—”

“—so, camera it is!” Viktor grinned. “Time for the world to meet the Ice Tigress of Russia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm a sneaky little fuck and just gave myself months of time to write the next chapter before we're not caught up to real time anymore. That's Just How I Roll.
> 
> In other news (wow I say that way too much): whymariyaoftheday is real and on Tumblr. As of the time of me writing this AN, it's under construction a bit, but it does exist and I encourage y'all to follow it (as well as mariyaplisetskaya on Instagram)!
> 
> ~~~
> 
> I love comments more than Phichit loves hamsters.
> 
> Everything about this AU—links to AO3, headcanons, fanart, and bonus drabbles—can be found in the [Tigress tag](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tagged/tigress) on [my tumblr](http://mvpyurio.tumblr.com). Please feel free to send me asks, headcanons, whatever! I also track the tags "mvpy look" and "tigress yoi!"
> 
> For a list of fanart for this piece, and info about making fanart of your own, please [click here](https://mvpyurio.tumblr.com/tigressart). Descriptions of each piece may contain spoilers.
> 
> Remember to follow the official Tigress social media spinoffs: mariyaplisetskaya on Instagram and whymariyaoftheday on Tumblr!
> 
> See you next time! <3


End file.
